La Vie En Rose
by cgaussie01
Summary: Wayne Scott/Bernard. Co written with threequarterfox. Truths are revealed between the two men, and they take their relationship to the next level and get busy on Bernard's bed. Warning for homosexual sex, and alien anatomy.
1. We Could have Danced All Night

"This was a bad idea." Bernard stood outside the club, looking up at the sign, trying to talk himself out of going inside. He had his (admittedly rather cold hands) tucked into a heavy, ankle-length duster coat. No one would have any idea what he was wearing, he could go home right now, and they would never know. Yes. "Yep. Bad idea." _Badbadbadbad_...

He turned around three times, pacing backwards and forwards, then turned on his heel one more time, nodded to the man at the door, who (unfortunately) knew him by name, and walked on into the noise.

"Nice to have you back, Bernie." said the door man as he held the door open for him.

As soon as Bernard walked into the bar he was greeted by the noise and heat that normally came coupled with this place. There were men everywhere talking, drinking, dancing, and the din of the music and their voices could be deafening on a good night. Tonight the song of choice appeared to be Smooth Criminal, and that seemed to be a suitable song for the crowd. If it wasn't, the guys weren't afraid to voice their opinions.

Then again, how could any of them argue with _this_ DJ?

It was the first thing he checked. He had been sure that the DJ would have moved on by now, DJs never lasted long, they always moved on... yet. He'd been hoping. And... It looked like there was some point in hoping.

Courage, first. That was essential. He made a gangway straight for the bar.

Despite how crowded and busy this bar could get, like the door man outside, the tattooed and pierced bar man knew Bernard by name too. The last time Bernard saw him, his hair had been bright red. Now, however, it was bleached blond and far shorter than last time. He grinned at Bernard on sight and leaned forward, grabbing a glass as he did.

"The usual?" he asked toothily.

"Better make it a double." _This was a very bad idea yes_. Bernard suddenly didn't want to even slightly go through with it. _No_. He held onto the bar.

The bar man brought his drink to him with ice cubes and set it down in front of him. "Leave it on your tab?" he asked.

"Sure." Bernard clung to the glass, which made his hand even colder.

"We were beginning to wonder if you turned straight on us, you've been gone for ages." the man behind the bar grinned as he began to work a towel along the bench, cleaning up spilled drinks whilst pausing to collect abandoned glasses in need of a wash.

"Not likely. I've been... caught up."

"That business with Megamind?"

"I'm... sort of. Yes. I guess you could say that."

"Ooh you got me curious now."

"Nothing so exciting. I spent the whole thing being immensely boring." _As boring as a little blue cube can be_. "I get the idea that I was entirely the wrong end of a stupid joke."

The bar man made a sad face that could make a kicked puppy look like a monster. "That sucks. Still!" he brightened up straight away as he began pouring a new drink for another customer who had just held a finger up at him. "You're here now, so once you get that in you, you can go and dance your cares away."

To help hit this idea home the music swiftly shifted from Michael Jackson into ABBA, and the song Gimmie Gimmie Gimmie (a man after midnight) filled the air. The men already dancing voiced their approval with cheers and applause, before dancing to the classic song.

Bernard tried to bury his woes in his drink, whilst desperately taking as sidelong a look as possible at the DJ at the far end of the room.

There were definitely some changes. It was the same man, but he appeared to have... A beard? And his hair was a lot longer. A LOT longer. Hmmm. He appeared to have it tied back in a very small pony tail, but it was hard to tell since his large headphones got in the way. He was wearing a short sleeved, and open, grey shirt with a black muscle shirt under that. Living up to its name the shirt most certainly showed off the muscles of the DJ, so much so that Bernard felt a shiver rush over him.

This DJ had been coming to the bar for longer than he had first thought. He still remembered the first night he'd arrived to find the new DJ who had taken up the position from their last one who had left after only a few weeks. The man had a great smile, and seemed to know all the right music to pick.

Of course, Bernard hadn't said a word to him.

_Not enough alcohol in all the world_ he admitted to himself, and started redirecting his gaze to the... Competition.

The dance floor was full of people who were far more forward than him in regards to a DJ. No wonder the guy was fenced off like that. Still, there was a low point in the screen through which men could approach to make a request for a song, and throughout most nights Bernard would see men rush up to shout a song to be heard above the noise (and those huge headphones).

Amateurs. The whole point of dancing was to respond to the music, not force the music to respond to you.

There were a remarkable number of quality dancers here tonight.

He recognised the regulars, of course, then started cataloguing the unknowns. With a librarians' mind, he was soon able to classify the lot of them. He could do this. The drink was beginning to warm him up, instead of cool him down.

It looked as though one of the amateurs was going to make a request right now. Some young guy (he looked no older than twenty) went rushing up to the screen. He was wearing little else than a tight shirt and shorts that were so short it looked like he was wearing underwear with pockets, and leaned up against the screen and made his request.

The DJ tilted his head in a curious manner before leaning forward, obviously asking for a repeat. The young man seemed to grin, almost triumphantly, as he leaned closer still and echoed the request again. Hearing him this time the DJ grinned and nodded, even went so far to give him a thumbs up before the young man went rushing back to his group of friends looking as though he'd just won an award.

_This should be interesting_. The whole group of friends were in the same ridiculous outfit, and Bernard half expected them to dance as a team. _When did they start dancing in packs?_ He contemplated another drink. _Yes, yes, this was a bad idea, oh yes._

It wasn't long until the requested song began to play and the recognizable intro made it all but impossible to mistaken this song for anything else. The Pet Shop Boy's Go West's melody and Russian-sounding vocals filled the bar, causing the group of young men to enthusiastically cheer. 

_Oh god, they aren't even going to dance to it?_ Bernard thought, but too soon. The whole pack joined the dance floor, abandoning drinks. He held tightly onto his cup and tried not to watch. _Knees_... He firmly informed himself that knees (and thighs) were NOT his kink. _Got to get out there eventually, can't sit here in this coat all night nursing an empty cup of ice and looking like a depressed paedophile._

He happened to side glance towards the DJ for the umpteenth time since he arrived here, and was startled to see that the man appeared to be looking at him. No. He fought a remarkably difficult battle to not look again, and eventually gave in, staring the DJ bravely straight in the face.

And then he received a smile. That dazzlingly bright smile, and he saw the man's eyebrows raise behind those black sunglasses he wore. It was like a bolt of lightning straight through him, a laser beam. _Argh. I've got to find a club where everyone doesn't KNOW me._ But he'd never even spoken to the DJ, so how could he know him? _Oh God._ Had he been watching Bernard? For how long? _Why?_ Too many questions.

This was not making him feel any braver about going out on that extremely exposed dance floor. _WHY did I not wear something a little less eye catching?_

The song continued and the DJ returned to his job, bobbing his head now and then as he worked the controls in front of him, like the professional he was. It wasn't long that The Pet Shop Boys were replaced by a ticking clock and the highly recognizable voice of Gwen Stefani.

_What you waiting, what you waiting, what you waiting for?_

_He definitely was looking at me._ Yep. Bernard felt put upon. With one last horrible blast of butterflies in the stomach, he dropped the glass on the bench, checked his coat, and marched straight up towards the dance floor.

For some reason everyone picked up on his mood, and the crowd parted and the coat flapped out behind me as he practically took a running jump onto the stage, leaving the coat behind.

_Well, they seem to like the sequins._ This wasn't the right night for him to be doing acrobatics in something this shiny. It was the wrong crowd. And as the music picked him up, he suddenly just didn't care. He was where he was meant to be.

The centre of attention.

The music suddenly sounded a lot louder, and the lights felt brighter. Lucky for Bernard this song was easy to dance to, if you knew what you were doing. And he _knew_ what he was doing.

The night passed by in a whirl of sequins. Eventually it seemed like it had been a good idea, the best idea he had ever had, to come here dressed like a psychedelic Dr Who, bow tie and all, and dance the night away. Song after song. He danced alone, he danced with other people, and he even danced with the ridiculous kid in the short shorts.

Time slowed to a universal _now_. He danced the night away.

Eventually, towards the end of a very energetic night, he was sitting rocking on a barstool in the far corner of the bar. The music had deteriorated. Finish his drink, and he'd go home.

It was then somebody pulled one of the chairs besides Bernard out, as if they were about to sit down at the end of the bar that he had claimed as his own. Bernard turned his head to glare at whoever it was who was trying to join him but found the expression flee his face when he saw the DJ standing there besides him, still holding the stool in his hand.

"S'all right if I sit?" he asked, the first words this man had ever said to him in his life.

Bernard did his best not to choke on his drink. Or his tongue. _Help._ "Y-you can sit where you please." _Okay, that sounded a bit awkward._ He stared at his companion, trying not to feel like a deer in headlights. He rocked even further backward on the chair.

The DJ grinned and nodded. "Thanks." he sat down and sighed heavily as he reached up and pulled the sunglasses off of his eyes. "Crazy night, huh?" he asked.

"It... was exactly what I needed." Bernard admitted.

"Oh yeah?" he asked, turning those brilliant blue eyes to look at him. "Well, good. Everyone needs a little crazy in their life now and then." the DJ shifted in his chair and held his right hand out suddenly. "Name's Wayne."

"Bernard." Waynes grip was very firm, concrete firm. Steel. But his hand was warm, friendly. Bernard rocked his chair back to stand on all of its legs for fear of loosing his balance, and his heart gave a horrid large thump as their hands parted again. He was suddenly extremely aware that he was talking to someone in a _gay_ club.

Wayne looked to the bar man. "Hey Alex, usual please?" he asked.

"Coming right up."

He turned his attention back to Bernard and he quickly eyed this choice of clothing for the night before looking back at to his face. "Certainly know your way around the dance floor don't you?" Wayne asked as he leaned forward on the bar and folded his muscular arms on the somewhat sticky surface.

"A lot of practice. Plus... the competition was... practically nonexistent." _Oh god I sound like a librarian._

"Competition hm?" Wayne asked as Alex brought him a tall glass of something fizzy looking. He lifted it to his mouth, flexing those muscles of his again, and raised an eyebrow. "Is it always a contest?" he asked before taking a drink.

"I certainly couldn't call it that tonight." Bernard buried his face helplessly in his drink.

Setting his glass down Wayne shrugged. "Well, most guys here just come here for a good time. And a chance to check out one another."

"I tend to come for the music. And there's the drinks."

"The music here rocks. I should know." Wayne smiled proudly before scratching at his beard, shutting his eyes as he did.

"It's definitely improved. I was worried that... in the time while I was away..."

"I'd leave?" he asked, voice suddenly low.

"It crossed my mind." _About a thousand times._ "So it was good to see you here."

"To be honest I just got back from some time away, too. This is only my second night back." Wayne admitted as he lifted his drink again. "Had to take some time away for... myself." the expression on his face made it quite obvious there was quite probably more to it then just that.

"Mine was a more... involuntary absence. But it's good to be back." Through a fog of _he's talking to me he's talking to me oh god he's talking to me _Bernard realised desperately that he was running out of drink to be nonchalant with.

"It really is, isn't it?" Wayne smiled as he set his drink down and nudged the empty glass away. "Feels good to be on familiar ground. A place you can be yourself."

"You have no idea." a_aaand the cup is empty. I really really should NOT get another. Nope._ "Can... Could I buy you a drink?"

Wayne looked mildly surprised.

"As payment for some very good music," he tried to explain.

The DJ hummed a noise of amusement through his nose and nodded. "Sure you can."

"Great." Bernard gestured _frantically_ at an extremely amused Alex. In no time at all, both of them had another full glass.

Wayne lifted his and held it up towards Bernard, and the two joined their glasses briefly to make a pleasant little noise. "To the return to friendly ground." Wayne said.

"May we never leave it." _Okay. One glass for me to come up with some reason for us to leave this friendly ground TOGETHER. I can do this I can do this..._

"Amen to that." Wayne whispered before taking a sip of his drink as the radio continued to play music from its speakers. It was tuned to some sort of commentator-free radio station so any old song would drift on and off, hardly keeping up with any kind of mood that could happen here in the bar this late at night. Or, early in the morning, if you wanted to get technical. Right now it was playing something by Aqua. Some bubble-gum catchy thing...

_I can't do this I can't do this_... Bernard gazed into those blue eyes and completely lost track of his previous motives.

"It's funny how you can come to take things for granted." Wayne suddenly said as he nursed the glass in his strong, warm hands. "Sitting around and talking with someone... I mean. When was the last time I did that? I can't even remember."

"Same. I don't tend to... get close enough to people..." His mind passed quickly over a bad stretch six months ago and he winced. "Well, when I do, it doesn't turn out too well."

"No?" Wayne asked, side glancing at Bernard out of the corner of his eye.

"Bad relationship. Sort of... still recovering."

"Me too," sighed Wayne. "S'why I was away for a while." he took a sip of his drink again before setting it back down again carefully over where it had been standing before. "I been with this guy for a long time but I finally realized how bad he was for me. So... I ended it. But I'm better for it. I _know_ I'm better for it."

_Oh god don't let me be a rebound. Not again._ "I know exactly what you mean."

Wayne smiled at him faintly. "I didn't even realize how much of my life he was running until I was free of him. Do you know what I did, my first day free of him?" he suddenly leaned in close and lowered his tone to a secretive whisper. "Absolutely _nothing_ and it felt _amazing_."

His breath smelt of orange tic-tacs.

Bernard tried to summon up the courage to _say I'd love to do nothing with you, that sounds fantastic_. And all he came up with was "Liberating." His voice did NOT wobble. "Freedom really is only appreciated when it's denied."

"Exactly." Wayne whispered before pulling away from him to sit up straight on his bar stool. "That's why I started growing my hair and beard out. Felt like a total change. A chance to find myself, you know? And let me tell you, it is great. Though..." he trailed into silence and frowned slightly.

"Can I say something?" he asked.

"You are." Bernard stopped. _Stopstopstop. Have to try not to be snarky._ "I mean. Yes. Please. Do. Say... Anything. I'm listening?"

Wayne laughed, and shook his head in amusement. "Right. Sorry. Well. I was glad to see you tonight."

_Yes_. It was like having all the breath knocked out of him.

"Last week when I started up here again and didn't see you, I thought you'd just... I don't know. Stopped coming?" Wayne asked with an awkward smile. "I mean you're a regular, and I've always seen you here before so... coming back and you not being here at all was. Well. A shock, I guess you could say."

"I almost didn't." Bernard desperately tried to come up with something which didn't make him sound like some crazy DJ stalker. "I couldn't find anything saying who was here tonight, I thought you had most definitely moved on... There was some crazy name on the website..." _Babbling you're babbling stop, stop!_ "It was a great relief to see you here, as well."

He had seen Wayne smile a lot tonight from behind the secured section in which he worked, even just now while speaking to him he had seen the man smile in many kinds of ways yet none of them truly compared to the one that was on the man's face now. Wayne was watching him carefully, and smiling in a way that nobody had ever truly done before and if they had, Bernard hadn't noticed.

"Well then... I'm glad you took a chance and came in tonight."

"So am I." _He's glad to see me glad to see me he is he is._ The night of dancing seemed to slip away, Bernard wanted to dance a jig right there. On the tabletop. He felt like a million dollars and shinier than his suit.

Wayne chuckled and dipped his head forward, looking a mix between relief and embarrassment. "Sorry if that sounded corny or something. Speaking my mind is a new thing I'm trying out, too." he admitted before looking at Bernard out of the corner of his eye, half hidden by his shaggy hair that had fallen loose during the night and was no longer in a neat small pony tail.

_If I get to touch his hair I'll die a happy man._ "It's not corny. Corny would be you asking me to dance or something." _Oh no did I just say that?_

"Would it now?" Wayne asked, stroking his bearded chin with a contemplative look on his face.

"I... I mean... I've been dancing all night... and and... and no one could dance to this..."

Wayne turned in his chair and looked at the radio before standing up and reached over the bar effortlessly and plucked the radio into his hands and began messing with the station. "There's a way to remedy that."

_Argh!_ "I... I... I'm not sure... Not, not that I don't appreciate... I mean..."

He turned his head and looked at him as the radio finally settled on a decent station a song Bernard hadn't heard in many years was being introduced. Louis Armstrong's 'La Vie en Rose came on with that familiar piano and trumpet. Wayne settled the radio back down on the tabletop before turning to face Bernard entirely.

"I've wanted to ask you this for a while now, and since this past month has been about me finding my own voice amongst everyone else's I'm going to use it. So." he paused, as if he was seemingly preparing himself for something huge. "Will you dance with me?"

Bernard smirked. "We have decided to go with Corny." He jumped down off the bar stool. "Of course, the dance floor is empty. Let's help ourselves."

"Fantastic." Wayne smiled as he offered Bernard his hand.


	2. Home is Where the Angst Is

Managing to somehow block out the annoying buzz of a clock radio was something any ordinary person could manage without much effort. For a man whose hearing could pick up minuscule sounds whenever he wasn't paying too much attention, ignoring that buzzing noise was like trying to ignore a rock concert going on in your neighbour's apartment. He felt exhausted, far more than he normally would.

Slowly Wayne reached over towards the radio, formed a fist, and slammed it down on the radio. The plastic device splintered on impact, as did the bedside draws it was sitting on top of. Grumbling to himself Wayne rolled away from his destroyed clock radio so he was now laying face down, and sighed heavily into the pillow.

If he had bothered to even look at the radio he would see it was somewhere around midday, but after a late night out the man felt he deserved a good long sleep in.

And what a night it had been...

It seemed Bernard had not in fact been tired at all from the display he had put on for hours on the dance floor. They both had floated together for endless hours and seconds, no time at all and the length of a song, so much so that Wayne twice had to check whether his feet were in fact touching the ground.

But Alex was soon, unfortunately, reminding them he had a home to get to and had to shut up the club for the night. Wayne paid what he owed for drinks before turning to the brown haired man who was collecting his jacket from where he had flung it over a chair.

"So, are you anything like me and still awake?" he asked.

"Coffee?" Bernard replied, carefully arranging his coat to cover the glittery costume he was wearing.

"Coffee." Wayne nodded in agreement. "I know a good place, just 'round the corner."

"I think we'll find half the people who were here tonight in there." Bernard fussed with the collar, then checked his buttons. He was completely camouflaged now.

He hadn't thought of that. Wayne collected his small backpack from behind the DJ console and pulled it over his shoulder as he thought. Was it suitable for him to ask this? He looked at Bernard for a moment, as he fussed with his buttons, and spoke in his most casual manner. "Well, if you want we could grab coffee at my place. It's not too far."

Bernard went very quiet for a moment, frozen, looking him silently in the eye.

_Damn it. No. That wasn't right, was it? Argh. I am not good at this._ "If you don't want to I understand." he said quickly, not wanting to scare the man off by being too forward.

"I. I... yes. I'd... what am I thinking? Yes. Let's go get coffee." Bernard stumbled over his words, struggled with his coat, and promptly tripped over a barstool. "Ow."

Naturally Wayne reached out and gently grabbed his arm, fearing the man might go stumbling to the floor. After a lifetime of saving people, some things were hard to forget. Plus it was the polite thing to do, wasn't it? "Careful! Don't want me carrying you all the way, do you?" _Not that I'd be against that but that's besides the point._

"N-no. No. I. It's a bit. Sorry. Clumsy of me." Bernard placed his hand on Wayne's, where it gripped his arm.

He did his best not to look at the mans hand on top of his own, he really did. Wayne smiled, "Well you have been dancing all night. It's a wonder your legs haven't gone a bit wobbly or something." he said before letting go of Bernard's arm once he was certain the man wouldn't fall over.

Bernard sighed, hand still where Wayne's hand had been. "Okay. Well, I've just proven I'm not fit to drive. Shall we call a taxi?"

"Well, sure." Wayne hadn't driven here, no. He had flown here. But nobody knew that, did they? So he couldn't offer to drive Bernard in his car, since it was amongst his many other cars back at the family mansion. He hadn't stepped foot in that place for months now, anyhow. "I'll go see if I can wave one down for us shall I?"

The cool night air stung at them as they exited the warmth of the bar, and Wayne was certain Bernard was glad to have brought such a jacket with him. The wind didn't bother him at all, to be brutally honest, but that came with the territory of being the strongest man on the planet. Or the whole galaxy, if you could believe half the stories about him. He pulled the band off of his wrist and quickly tied his hair back into a ponytail since he didn't want the wind make it fly around his head as he glanced up and down the road.

"I know there's a taxi line up 'round the corner from here. There should be some waiting and if there isn't, we can wait there until one shows up. Shall we?" he offered Bernard his hand for the second time that night. Bernard took it enthusiastically. He discovered he was quickly becoming very fond of feeling Bernard's hand in his own.

And so they walked, hand in hand, down the street and made the turn at the right place and Wayne was actually glad to see there weren't any taxi's lining up yet. _Oh good_. "Oh. Damn." he said aloud as they approached the street sign labelled with the word 'Taxi' and listed emergency numbers, and besides it was some dividers to keep the more 'spirited' people waiting for the taxi from walking straight out onto the main road where the cars drove. "Guess we're waiting for a while."

"There's a trick to it." Bernard grinned. "I wonder if it still works?"

"Still works?" Wayne asked, curious.

"Yes. You stand just here. No. Here. You look around, you walk past the stand and you say "Oh well, I guess I don't really need a taxi, it's a nice night for a walk..." " Bernard looked hopefully over his shoulder. Not a Taxi showed up. He looked disappointed.

Wayne laughed, unable to help himself. "Oh well. Guess they'll show up when it's best suiting them, hm?" he asked, stroking his thumb against Bernard's hand.

"Hmm." Bernard squeezed his hand and slowly seemed to change colour to a shade of red, his widening eyes fixed on a group of Goth girls obviously making their own late night way home. "Oh no."

"Oh no?" Wayne echoed his sentiment as he glanced at the girls.

"Nonono. Hide."

"Why?"

"Then hide _me_." Bernard looked desperately around for some way of hiding himself. The long street was practically deserted. "No, they've seen me."

Wayne couldn't understand why the man was reacting like this at all. Was he scared of them?

"Nononono," Bernard whispered, then let go his hand with one last squeeze, sending a lot of mixed signals, then tugged his own collar, flipping it up around his neck, looking more insecure than ever. He raised his voice. "Hi George."

_Oh. Well now that makes sense. He knows them I guess?_ Wayne stared at Bernard for a moment longer before looking to the group of girls who had approached them. Their leader, presumably George, looked him up and down very thoroughly, and rather rudely. Her posse stayed back, obviously expecting... Something.

"Um. George. This is- this is Wayne." Bernard swallowed nervously. "We were. Justjust waiting for a taxi..."

"Hello." Wayne said, keeping his calm exterior despite his instincts telling him something very bad was happening.

George frowned at Wayne. "Hi Bernie. You been dancing?"

"We just left, actually." Wayne answered for Bernard since it was obvious the man was in no real state to talk with this woman. He glanced at the girls behind her and noticed at least half of them was checking him out while the other half looked disgusted.

"Well, this is a new development, Bernie." George continued to stare at Wayne. "You found someone to talk _for_ you now?"

"I,I... I wait George, look we were it's just coffee." Bernard looked suddenly stunned. "I mean. I mean. Oh no."

"Look, have you got a problem?" Wayne suddenly asked George. "Because we're not looking for any so if you're trying to start something, I suggest you just leave."

"It's it's okay Wayne. G-G-George is just an um old friend. Really. Sort of of of..."

George watched this with increasing amusement. She tilted her head at Wayne. "Okay. We were just walking past. I'll see you _later_ Bernie." She blinked at Bernard for a long slow moment, then turned on her heel, and walked away arm in arm with her friends. There was a whispered comment, and the entire group broke into laughter as they walked away.

"That was interesting." Wayne said, mostly to himself, before looking at Bernard. "You going to be all right?" he asked softly.

Bernard ran both his hands over his face. "Yes. Fine. Probably."

He reached out and rubbed his hand against the mans back gently as he looked after the group of women. "I'm guessing you don't want to talk about it?" he asked.

"She's an. Well. Ex-girlfriend. If you really want to know." Bernard kept his hands over his eyes.

_Now I see why you turned gay._ Wayne gave a nod as he kept rubbing the man's back in slow circles, trying to bring some form of comfort to him. "She's gone now. She can't get to you."

"No yes. She can. I really really should quit th-that job." Bernard pulled his hands away from his face. He looked about ten years older all of a sudden.

"She works at your workplace?" Wayne asked incredulously.

"No. She's my _boss_. She's... It's a long story. It's. It's sort of a, a, a... niche field of study... And there just aren't that many other people... It's it's it's... a case of small world syndrome."

"What field do you work in, exactly?"

"I'm..." Bernard stopped and took a breathe. "Research. I work in research."

"It's okay. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." Wayne said softly. "But if she's your boss... I'd seriously consider a change of career. But I know that isn't easy."

"Like I said, narrow field. Of of research. Not much employment." Bernard sighed. "I could always go back to _teaching_."

Wayne looked at the man who, not ten minutes ago, had been happily walking and joking with him. Now, because of that woman, he was like a totally different person. It wasn't right at all, for somebody to be affected so easily by just one person. Then again, _he_ had been affected by one person (two if you count the fish) for most of his life. Was there much difference? Well, obviously since Megamind didn't turn him into... well. This.

"Hey look, there's a taxi." Wayne lifted a hand to signal the taxi that was just now beginning to pull up to the curb. "Come on, you need coffee."

"Yes. I do. Coffee."

He gently guided Bernard into the back seat of the taxi before joining him, and giving the driver his address. Wayne lived 'up town', in one of the towering buildings that thankfully hadn't been destroyed by the events of a few weeks ago. Normally Wayne would spend time in his fortress beneath the old school house, but seeing how that place wasn't really... well... safe anymore, after that lovely breaking and entering by Roxanne and Megamind, Wayne felt it was time for a real change.

After all, physically removing himself from all those trinkets and remnants of his hero life had actually been a good idea too. Seeing your own grinning mug every day in portraits got a tad annoying.

The taxi driver thankfully knew the route, so Wayne didn't have to give directions. Instead he focused on the man beside him. "So do you like your coffee black or white?" he asked, trying to draw him away from the ugly incident on the sidewalk.

"M-milk is a b-bad thing." Bernard was hunched miserably in the corner of the seat, looking ridiculously tiny all of a sudden.

"Lactose intolerant?" Wayne asked quietly.

"So very much."

Wayne smiled. "I never cared much for milk in my coffee anyway." he reached out and placed his hand onto one of Bernard's carefully, just in case the man would pull away from him. "How about sugar?"

Bernard flinched visibly, and then grabbed Wayne's hand before he could pull away again. "Sugar on the other hand I can always have more of. As you would have noticed in the bar."

He wanted to apologize, but he didn't know what for exactly. Wayne looked down at Bernard's hand now clamping onto his own, and wondered if he was doing Bernard any kind of favours here at all. Still... _imagine how he would have gone if he had come up against George alone._ The idea didn't sit well with the ex-hero, so he sent it on its merry way.

"All right then. Black with sugar it is." he smiled faintly.

"Here we are mack." said the driver as he pulled up to the curb.

"Oh great, thanks." Wayne pulled his wallet out of his back pocket with one hand and managed to tug out a fifty without letting go of Bernard's hand at all, and handed it to the driver. After getting his change, save a tip, the two men exited the taxi.

The building in question was over twenty storeys high, and was one of the latest additions to the city only a few years ago. Buying an apartment, or an entire floor, would set anyone back a good dozen figures. To Wayne though, that was small change. Besides, he liked the view it gave in the mornings of the city, as well as the water reflecting off the water.

Bernard looked up... and up. "Huh."

Wayne shrugged. "Family." he feebly explained since it was true. He led Bernard up to the door and scanned their way in with a security card.

"I really should get around to getting me some of those."

"Hah. Not everything it's cracked up to be, believe you me." Wayne said as he pushed the door open and held it open for Bernard to walk through into the foyer. The floors were pristine and the area was well lit, illuminating the paintings on the walls and various potted plants. A man behind a security desk glanced up at the two men.

"Hey Tom. Busy night?" Wayne asked, to which Tom shrugged.

"The usual." replied the man.

"Keep up the great work." he smiled before looking back to Bernard. "I'm on the eighteenth floor. Come on." he began leading him to the elevators.

Bernard looked over his shoulder at Tom, and let himself be dragged away by Wayne. "Eighteenth. Up the top?"

"Hmmhmm." Wayne pressed the elevator call button.

"Up... High?"

"Uh... I have blinds?" he asked, looking at Bernard carefully.

"Can we have them all the way open?"

"Don't you mean shut?"

"No. I want to see the whole city." Bernard rocked on his feet where they were waiting for the elevator. "At once."

The elevator arrived with a pleasant 'ding!' to announce its arrival and the doors eased open soundlessly.

"We can do that." Wayne smiled before walking into the mirror panelled lift. The top section of the walls had mirrors while the lower half had simple polished wood. Once more he had to scan his security card against a small black panel before pressing the number 18 button.

Bernard was standing very close to the mirror at the back, looking himself in the face, his hands on the railing.

The doors slid shut and there was the familiar lurch one normally felt when riding an elevator.

Wayne watched Bernard quietly before reaching out and rubbed his shoulder. "You all right?" he asked.

"I think I might have had a little too much to drink."

"Maybe I should give you water instead." Wayne said as he glanced at the glowing panel. They were already passing the 9th floor.

"Coffee should cure me."

"Roger roger." Wayne replied with a small smile before glancing at himself in the mirrors too. His hair looked a mess, and already his beard was shaggier than it had looked that morning. He reached up and touched his beard absently, observing himself. Maybe he should shave the next morning... he hoped he had remembered to keep a angle grinder up in this apartment if not then shaving would have to wait.

The doors finally opened and... it opened on a loft. Not a hallway, not a door, but an entire floor. Rich red hardwood made up the floor and leather couches were strewn in a semicircle, in front of a wall-mounted flat screen television that looked ridiculously huge, with a surround sound system up against the walls. Then there was the mini bar, where all manner of drinks were on display in their boxes, and the glasses hung suspended from their bottoms on metal panels.

It was a sunken entertainment area since there was a simple, small step right there beyond the lounge, where the kitchen was on display. Its sink and washing machine were on an island, while the red six-ringed oven sat against the wall. Cupboards hiding food and plates matched the color of the hardwood floor.

Then there was the first wall, and one could only guess that through there was the bedroom and bathroom.

One couldn't ignore the fact that the exterior walls were all windows and presently opened. The city, spread out beneath them, was like a glowing carpet of lights and if you strained your ears you could hear traffic and sirens in the distance.

Wayne stared at the apartment for a moment, realizing just how long it had been since he had actually been here. He side glanced Bernard and smiled weakly. "Home sweet home?" he asked weakly.

"City." Bernard breathed, walking straight to the centre window.

Wayne watched him for a moment before slipping his sneakers off and set them down on the floor, then walked up to him. Picking up on movement, the lights in the apartment flickered on slowly. Thankfully were at a dim light setting.

Bernard flung his arms out on the window on either side of him and pressed his face against the glass, staring down at the carpet of lights.

"Beautiful isn't it?" Wayne asked quietly, though his eyes weren't on the city.

"It's like flying. The museum was like this."

Wayne knew what museum Bernard was talking about. He glanced across the city in the direction where it had once stood, but it was partially blocked by a number of buildings. "You worked there?"

"I. No. Yes. Please don't hate me for it."

"Why would I hate you? For anything?" Wayne asked, honestly surprised.

"People don't... tend to have a good opinion of museum curators." Bernard had the side of his head against the glass of the window now, and was looking over to see what Wayne thought of this latest development. "It's not what you'd call the classiest of jobs."

"Well I happen to have a fairly high opinion of this museum curator." Wayne said with a smile before tugging at the collar of Bernard's jacket playfully. "And I think you should take that off unless you want to get over heated."

"It's not that warm in here." Bernard playfully tugged the collar back the way he'd had it, turning to face Wayne, his back against the glass.

Wayne laughed. "All right, be that way. I'll just go and certainly not touch the thermostat." he grinned broadly before backing away from the man as he pulled the grey short sleeved shirt he was wearing off of his shoulders. "I'll go put the coffee on then shall I?"

He turned away from Bernard as he folded the grey shirt over his arm and walked up into the kitchen area of the floor, turning the coffee machine on as he walked past. There was a muffled thump behind him, when he looked around, Bernard was sitting on the floor, legs crossed, back against the glass, looking around at the apartment.

He smirked faintly before walking through to his bedroom where he put his shirt down on the bed. Quickly he tugged his hair free of its hair band and let it just hang loose around his neck before making his way back through to the kitchen and looked back to see if Bernard was still sitting on the floor.

"You all right?" he asked.

"Fine. Tired." Bernard had his eyes closed, leaning against the glass. "Glass is nice and cold."

"Taking off your jacket might help you feel the cold a bit more." Wayne informed him as he pulled out two cups from an overhanging cupboard as the coffee machine continued to make its pleasant noises.

"Mmm. Good point. But then... I'd be all sparkly... on your apartment."

Wayne shrugged. _Maybe he's still on edge from that woman. I know I would be_... "Well. I'm not going to pull it off you." he smiled despite the idea of doing that not seeming too bad at all. _No, no. Self control, all right? You haven't been waiting for this to happen all this time to screw it up now. You could scare him off, and then where will you be? Alone.__  
><em>  
>He retrieved the sugar from another cupboard and set it down.<p>

"I had probably better take you up on that offer of water first."

"Sure thing." Wayne easily filled a glass with water before heading back over to Bernard and eased himself down to sit besides him on the floor, offering the glass as he did. "Here you go. On the house."

"Thanks." Bernard opened his eyes to hold the glass, and stared down into the water. "I think I'm not the best houseguest. Sorry." He sipped from the glass.

Wayne smiled softly. "To be honest, you're my first houseguest ever."

"First...?" Bernard glanced at him in astonishment, then looked out at the huge apartment, then looked back at Wayne. "Is this... Oh. Dear. Maybe. This was a bad idea..."

"What?" Wayne asked, looking as confused as he felt. "Why are you- what do you mean? I've never really invited people around before, that's what I mean... To be honest I'm a fairly private kind of guy and..."

"A whole apartment which you never use. And. I mean. I met you in. Uh." Bernard was leaning away from him now, clutching the glass of water in both hands, knuckles white.

_Well that's just great. Wonderful._

Wayne stared at him for a moment before looking away from him, unable to hide what this was doing to him at all. "Sorry." he said quietly before getting to his feet, and dusted at his trousers for something to do with his hands besides trying to knock himself out. "I am. This... this wasn't... God I don't know."

He retreated to the kitchen area where the coffee machine was just now making the first cup.

_This is why I shouldn't have done this ever. Was better off under a stupid school house for the rest of my life._ His hands, suddenly feeling far larger than they were, fumbled with the mug, but managed to set it on the sink without spilling any. Just how he didn't know. _Had to go and open my big stupid mouth didn't I? Sure, mention what a recluse you are and..._

He positioned the second mug in the machine, not even knowing if Bernard would still want his. But it was keeping him occupied, wasn't it?

Bernard made several attempts to stand up before he managed it, the water sloshing in his glass. He turned and stood facing the window again, cup to his mouth. Wayne heard a distinct sniffling sound.

_This isn't what I hoped for at all_. Wayne turned his head to look over his shoulder at Bernard standing in front of the beautiful image that was Metro City by night. _Probably not what he hoped for either_. Quickly he looked back at the coffee brewing before picking up the already prepared cup, added some sugar, and carefully made his way back to Bernard.

"I don't... I don't invite people around because I've never had a real reason to." he heard himself saying. "My whole life I've felt like I was an outsider from everyone around me. I've never," he looked down at the coffee in his hands tiredly. "...never even really had friends, if I think about it long enough. I have people who like me well enough, who relied on me, but I couldn't really call any of them close to me. Not even my parents, you know? They've always been preoccupied by other things." he took another few steps towards Bernard, carefully as if he was approaching a wild animal who was cornered.

The pain in his chest was familiar, but didn't feel like anything he had experienced before. When Roxanne and Megamind had came down on him for letting the city (and everyone) down, he had felt guilty of course. This, though, was like _drowning_ in it and knowing there was no way out of it. Maybe he wasn't meant to live his own life at all? Maybe he should have stuck with what he knew, wearing white, kissing babies, and kicking Megamind's rear every day. It was his bed, why couldn't he lay in it?

"I'm sorry that I scared you, or made you feel like... like I was after something. I didn't mean to... well. Ruin this. But I've got your coffee," he offered it out weakly as if it was a measly peace offering of some sort to a God who would never even notice him, and hoped his voice wasn't cracking as badly as he thought it was. "and you can go, if... if you want. I won't blame you if you do."

_I'll just chalk this up as another way to let people down, and go back to living under the old school-house where nobody will ever see me again. That'd be easier than this. I'm so not used to this._

"Thankyou. Sorry. I had entirely too much to drink." Bernard had tears running down his face. He took the coffee, and took careful sip, and whimpered slightly. "And that is very hot." He went back to the glass of water in his other hand.

"Sorry." Wayne said weakly. It felt like he would never say any other word ever again. _Sorry Metro City. Sorry Roxanne. Sorry Megamind. Sorry Mom. Sorry Dad. Sorry Bernard. Sorry everyone._ He ran a hand through his hair nervously, and took a deep breath, before reaching into his pocket and pulled out a white handkerchief and offered it to Bernard. Another measly offering.

"Thankyou." Bernard, with one hand full of coffee cup and the other full of glass, stood there stupidly trying to work out how to take the handkerchief. "I. I'll just..."

"...sorry, right. Sorry." Wayne reached out and took the glass of water from him and replaced it with the handkerchief.

"Thankyou." Bernard rubbed his face angrily with the handkerchief, thoroughly smearing the tears on his cheeks, and then, eyeing Wayne nervously, blew his nose. "And now. I am going to go and sit down, before I fall over." He wobbled over to the lounge area, and dropped himself onto the first one he came to.

Wayne watched him, and though he wanted to go and help he felt that if he got too close to the man he'd... what. Break him? He didn't even know anymore. But he followed after Bernard had sat, and dragged the coffee table closer to the couch and set the glass of water down on it before retreating to the kitchen once more.

_Never again. Never, __**ever**__ again._

He grabbed his own coffee and blew over it once, his super ice breath almost freezing the coffee entirely before he realized what he was doing. Turning his head away he heated the coffee all over again with his heat vision before taking a big gulp of it. The drink did nothing to improve his mood, so he just stood in the kitchen, for once having no clue what to do. He could banter back and forth with Megamind for hours, but this? He was totally lost.

When he finally returned to see how Bernard was faring, the brown haired man was fast asleep, the empty coffee mug dangling from his fingers, stockinged feet drawn up onto the seat, head resting on the arm of the chair.

He stared at the man for a moment before he let out not one, but two sobs and lifted a hand and rubbed it against his face. "What am I doing...?" he asked himself. "What am I _doing_." he retrieved the empty mug easily and set it on the coffee table before grabbing a few pillows from the other couches in order to properly give Bernard some support.

"I'm sorry." he stammered to the sleeping man as he positioned him properly on the couch carefully. "I didn't mean to bring you into my mess. I just thought you could..." Wayne stopped himself and rubbed his hands fiercely against his eyes as he shut them tightly. _Thought you could what, exactly? Possibly accept me for all the screw ups I've done? Be something?_

This had been just one big mistake after the other, hadn't it? He was trying to become his own person but for what? So far it had done nothing good for him at all. But that had been fine, since it was only him. Now a good man lay on his couch, having cried because of him. This isn't what he had wanted out of his new life at all.

He retreated to his bedroom and shut the door behind him, trying not to destroy the handle. It still looked fairly dented when he pulled away from it. Unable to even look at himself in his mirror he climbed onto his bed and laid there, eyes open, staring at nothing.

Wayne was still staring at nothing when all the memories of the night before came crashing down on him. He sat bolt up right on his bed and rushed from the room, pulling the door open and somewhat off its hinges. He bolted into the main room of the apartment and found it completely deserted.

"...Ber... Bernard?" he called out, despite the feeling that he was alone again.

There was no answer.

He approached the couch and saw the cushions had been rearranged, and there was no jacket hanging anywhere. Bernard had left.

"...Oh." Wayne whispered before all those ugly emotions from the night before reared their heads in his mind again. "Right... yeah." he looked around the apartment that suddenly felt very huge, and cold. "I'd leave too."

Wayne moved to the window where Bernard, just the night before, had been standing at and stared out at Metro City. So much had changed out there, surprisingly for the better. Even with the mess up that was Titan, and the destruction of the Metro Tower, the city was doing well for itself now. Megamind was now the hero, and the blue man had readily accepted all what was expected of him. Things had gone well for him. So why weren't they going well for _him_? Was he really just a selfish child, wanting to do things for himself? Maybe Roxanne had been right, when she was throwing his speakers over his head. But he couldn't go back now, could he? He was dead to these people. The city had its new hero now, and so quick were they to accept him.

Maybe he should have just stayed dead.

He sighed and rubbed at his eyes again before pressing a button on the wall that made all the blinds in the apartment slowly lower, blocking out the bright morning light. Soon the apartment was in near pitch black, but that was no problem for Wayne. Another one of his handy super powers was the ability to see in the dark, so he made his way to the couch as if nothing was wrong, and slowly sat down on it.

"So now what?" he asked himself. "Sit inside all your life? Become a hermit? Never see sunlight again? Sure! Why the Hell not?" Wayne threw his arms up as he fell back against the couch, shutting his eyes as he did and crossed his legs. "Everyone else is doing damn fine without me. Maybe I can do damn fine without everyone else! I _was_, wasn't I?"

There was no answer.

"And now I'm talking to myself. First sign of madness right there. Yep. So let's stop it now, shall we? Yeah. Yes. Let's."

He opened his eyes, and suddenly spotted something on the floor that hadn't been there before. At least, he thought it wasn't. Paper? Or was it his handkerchief from the night before? Sighing he got his feet off the coffee table and picked it up, surprised to see it actually was a piece of paper. "Huh?" he asked quietly as he stared at his name written neatly on the folded note.

He had never been afraid before in his life, but he was suddenly terrified of reading what was written on the note. So terrified he was, he stared at the paper for almost five minutes without doing anything until he finally, slowly, opened the paper.

_Hi Wayne._

_I'm really sorry about last night. I had far too much to drink and I was probably acting very strange and then I fell asleep before I could explain myself._

_I really want to see you again. Do you want to meet up tomorrow? We could go to Metro City Park and I'll buy you lunch and make up for being an incredible wreck last night._

_Call me._

He sat there in the dark reading that note a few dozen times before he slowly lowered it back onto the coffee table where he guessed it had been sitting before. Emotions were waging all out intergalactic war inside his heart right now and he didn't know what emotion to feel. For one he had never gotten a guy's number before, but this was the number of the same guy who had been so quick to pull away from him last night. The man who he had put so much... what... faith into. The man who had helped bring on a nice new load of depression that Wayne had never felt before in his life, even when he was hiding under the school, pretending to be dead.

_He wants to see me._

That fact alone brought a shuddering laugh from the ex-hero, and he covered his mouth with his hand quickly to stop the laughter becoming anything else. "He wants to see me." he said into his hand as his eyes fell shut, and tears most definitely did not roll down his face.

_Somebody wants to see me._


	3. Missed Connections

Bernard stood under the shower, facing the rose. Scaldingly hot water flowed over his face and it felt so good.

His bathroom was littered with sequins where he had shed the suit from the night before. The morning after was decidedly hung over. The hot water felt good and he concentrated on that.

Getting home from Wayne's house had been remarkably easy, although the gate guard in the apartment building had looked at him as if he'd been skulking away from a crime, or possibly stealing something under his ridiculous coat. The thought of someone searching him and coming up sequins had been all he could think of whilst he sat in the taxi. His car was still parked at the club.

After a shower which used the whole of the hot water up, he wandered from room to room wearing an old tartan wool dressing gown. He gathered some sandwich materials and ate them on his circuit, around and around the house, thinking. He thought best when he was on the move.

House. Well, to be fair, it was more an apartment. And also to be fair, it was practically an entire level of the building, just like Wayne. It was just... lower down the totem pole. He blinked for a moment up at the tiny windows, at ground level, high on his walls, above the bookcases. A lot lower down the totem pole.

His home most resembled the forbidden stacks of an old library or museum, with as many bookcases as he could fit, on every single wall. It wasn't cramped, it was quite roomy, but all the outer walls, and all the dividing walls, every wall, was bookcases. And all of them were full of books. Bernard walked around the entire circuit again, then finally managed to talk himself into settling into an old overstuffed leather armchair, with three books purloined from their shelf inside the oven to keep him company.

A few hours later he woke up again, the sun shining in the tiny windows at a different angle. He stretched and unkinked himself, and wandered off towards the laundry at the far end of his house. If the sun was out, it may as well be useful.

On the floor of the shower, he collected various discarded towels, the remains of his sequined suit (Where was the broom? Those little shiny things were EVERYwhere!) and an odd white crumpled shape which turned out to be a handkerchief. He dumped the handkerchief and towels in with the rest of the wash, and wandered out to find a good way of salvaging what was left of his sparkly suit.

When the washing machine ground to an angry loud halt, Bernard was finally dressing in a T shirt and jeans, sipping from a cup of some vile unsweetened coffee and trying to find a pair of socks which weren't mismatched. The final BANG BANG BANG alerted him, and he wandered in to unload the machine again.

One of the last things out of the machine was the white handkerchief, an expensive, large, thick piece of fabric with a little gold monogram in one corner. Bernard uncrinkled it, and stared.

M.

Perhaps it was... a W upside down? It couldn't be... It could be a piece of fanart from the time the former hero of the city had a bit of a following? He twisted it around in his hands. It wasn't one of the pieces of commercial merchandise from the old Metro Man Museum, that was certain, as those had been far less classy and on a material far less nice.

He had his back to the washing machine. As he held the fabric out before him, he slowly slid down the side of the washing machine until he was sitting on the tiled floor, legs out in front of him. Wayne. Was... Metro Man? Wayne was Metro Man. Metro Man was Wayne. They were the same person. Wayne and Metro Man. Metro Man and Wayne. The same.

_Metro Man is gay_.

_...Huh._

Well, there was an entire community out there who would be delighted by this news. And he sure as hell wasn't interested in telling them.

Well, that proved that Howard was wrong and Metro Man was definitely still alive. He wasn't interested in telling Howard that either.

He had to be wrong. How... How could he... confirm this?

* * *

><p>Wayne stood in the bathroom, hair hanging limp and still wet from his head. The only thing he wore was a simple white towel wrapped around his waist, and was well aware of the water he was treading on the floor, but that didn't matter now. As usual, his beard had grown at insanely fast pace just like it did every other night so to avoid making himself look like a biker, or a muscle-bound middle aged Santa Clause, he was going to shave.<p>

For most men that meant grabbing your faithful razor and shaving cream.

For Wayne Scott it meant powering up an angle grinder. It was the only way the man could get a decent shave, and the bathroom was soon filled with the mechanical squeal of the machine as it ground against his pointed chin, cutting back his beard but not too much. He had grown quite fond of the beard, after a lifetime of having smooth features, and he felt it suited him.

He hummed 'Y.M.C.A' as sparks leaped up from the device and flickered into nothing against the mirror.

This morning he had a game plan. He would call Bernard just to check up on him, to see that he made his way home safe and sound, then work out a more definite time to catch up at the Metro City Park. Just how Bernard had known he took a particular interest to feeding ducks in the pond he didn't know, maybe great minds thought alike?

The very idea that Bernard still wanted to see him was amazing to the powerful man. After his atrocious actions the night before, how he had put his foot in his mouth and caused the other to cry like that... he wouldn't have blamed Bernard if he had fled, never to see him again. To think he was still interested... it made him smile faintly to himself as he continued to grind away the beard.

He was soon splashing on the aftershave and smacking his cheeks, then grabbing the towel from his waist. He began to towel dry the rest of himself off. With two good shakes of his head his hair was dry, thanks to that fast motion of his, and he ran a comb through the wavy, now dry, hair. "All right..." Wayne put the comb back into its drawer before grabbing his toothbrush and began cleaning his teeth. Dental hygiene had always been a big thing to the man, since he was known for his dazzling smile. Some things you just couldn't let go of.

He was soon making his way through to the bedroom where he pulled on some black shorts (they came to an end just over his knees) and a simple black t-shirt with a white stripe running down the front right breast. Grabbing his phone off of the counter in the kitchen, he made his way back to the coffee table where Bernard's note still remained from that morning. He lifted it up and read it a few more times before turning on the touch-pad phone. He pressed in the numbers.

It rang a number of times before it was finally answered.

* * *

><p>Bernard raced around a bookcase, careered off the door frame, and vaulted a chair, picking up the receiver on the ancient black telephone, and halting the insistent bell. "Hello?"<p>

He extracted himself from the telemarketer with difficulty, explaining that he already had several large encyclopaedia sets and he didn't need another one, and especially not one in electronic form of any type, and hung up the phone, then gazed at it forlornly. _Why doesn't he call?_

* * *

><p>"'Ollo?"<p>

Wayne's world froze as he heard that word, but more importantly, the voice. That wasn't Bernard. That wasn't Bernard at all.

"...Hello...?" Wayne asked as he checked the number at the bottom of the note again. No, he had gotten it right. What was the meaning of this? "Uh I... think I have the wrong..."

"Metro Man?" Megamind asked, voice sounding both curious and amused. "That is you!" the new hero of the city laughed in an amused way that made Wayne's blood suddenly boil.

"What's the meaning of this?" he demanded through the phone, free hand forming a powerful fist.

"What's the meaning of _what_?" the blue man sounded confused.

"Is this some sort of game, Megamind? I thought we were past that." Wayne snarled through the phone. Oh God. Had that been Megamind last night? Had all of it been a hoax to have a good laugh at his expense? If that was true, was there ever really a Bernard to begin with at all? What if 'Bernard' was just a persona that Megamind had created in order to trounce around town unnoticed by people?

No, but how would that explain George and the girls? ...surely not Minion and Brain Bots in disguise. While Megamind was known to mess around, his faithful companion wasn't nearly as cruel to go along with a plan like this. Just what the Hell was going on?

"I honestly have no idea what you're talking about." Megamind said flatly through the phone. "You called me! What kind of joke is that?" he asked.

"I got this number-it doesn't matter where. If this is what I think it is you've hit a new low, Megamind. I thought you were trying to be a good guy and from what I recall, good guys don't go playing around with people's emotions like this! You better hope this is just one big mess up or God help me..."

Wayne couldn't finish the sentence, instead he simply crushed his phone easily in his hand and threw the remains across the room. The plastic embedded itself in the wall where it hit, and Wayne stood there, chest heaving. All the good feelings finally beginning to bud like new flowers after a long winter shrivelled and died in his chest.

Megamind wouldn't do this to him. He knew his fellow alien hadn't been impressed by his giving up the hero business, but they had come to an understanding. At least he thought they had. What did Megamind have to gain to play with him now? Was this an attempt at making him feel bad for giving up on being a hero? Surely not...

Suddenly feeling the desire to beat the tar out of something, Wayne used his super speed, and flew out of one of the only windows on the floor that opened. With his speed set this high, he could all but walk through town without any worries of being spotted but right now he didn't want to go walking. He wanted to go and destroy something out of frustration, because of all these conflicting, ugly emotions that were waging a war once more within his heart.

Laser blasting some rocks in a quarry sounded like a good idea. It's what usually worked for him.

* * *

><p>Midday rolled up, and Wayne found himself waiting at the park. He was sitting at one of the many benches near the large pond where all manner of water-dwelling life lived. A few ducks had already approached him, hopeful for food, but soon figuring out he had none they had waddled off in search of people having picnics.<p>

He glanced around him for a moment before looking down at his watch. It was now one o'clock. Bernard had said midday tomorrow, so... didn't that mean today? Or did he mean tomorrow, tomorrow? Wayne always got a little confused about time passage sometimes. Either way, after destroying some large boulders with his hands and eyes, and not feeling any better for it, he had restarted time and just walked back to the city rather than fly. That in itself took him three hours, but that was nothing to him.

The fact that Bernard wasn't here only made the idea that he had been Megamind all along once again bob to the surface of his mind. If that was true... what was Megamind playing at? A game? Or did he actually feel something towards him, and had tried the only way to get close to him? But then why the tears, and George? It didn't make any sense in the ex-hero's head at all.

It was funny that he had spent so long rescuing these people, protecting them from danger, yet he could barely understand what would make a person do this sort of thing to another. Cruel pay back? He didn't know.

He soon moved from the park bench and began walking through the park alone. In doing so, he saw many couples walking, or riding bikes and other small means of transportation like roller blades or roller skates. There were young families too, as well as old married couples who looked like they had spent the better half of their lives together. He smiled faintly, but it hardly made his mood improve. These people could find somebody, why was it so hard for him to do the same?

Karma, maybe?

After walking his way through the park at least ten times Wayne decided to sit on a slightly sloping hill, the same one he had once sat at when he had been moving at super speed over a month back, and settled his head in his hands. Around him there was laughter, people talking, dogs barking and bids singing.

He was the only person here alone without anyone, he soon realized.

But he decided to just sit, and people watch. It wasn't something he had really done for so long, and the last time he'd done that everyone had been frozen in place. This time, it seemed to be in reverse. The man with a beard, and wearing a highly decorative off-red shirt and black shorts, seemed to be the one frozen in time while the world moved around him. He barely registered when little kids, picnicking with their family, would approach the strange looking man until their parents would retrieve them.

A good few ducks approached and sat around him, as if he was a statue, before they too waddled away as the desire for food struck them again.

_What the Hell am I doing again?_

Wayne sighed harder than he had meant to, and near by trees suddenly whistled, their leaves rustling loudly due to his sigh. Damn it. He had to be more careful about that. Last thing he wanted was to make a tree end up falling over because he sighed too hard.

"You look sad."

The little voice surprised him and he turned his head to see a little girl standing a few paces away from him.

"Are you sad?"

He tried to smile but failed. "A bit." he admitted.

"You need a kite." said the little girl as she suddenly held her own out to him. "Here!"

"Oh, no it's fine I don't-"

"Take it!" she enthusiastically thrust it into his hands. "Kites make me feel better." she smiled and waved, before hurrying off since her parents were calling her since it was time to go.

"Thank you?" Wayne called out before looking down at the little pink and white kite he now held.

He waited until the area was more deserted before he blew under the kite with a powerful gust, sending it flying up into the sky but it held tight with the twine string anchoring it to his hands. Wayne sat there, watching the kite fly higher and higher as the sun began to slowly fade in the distance.

But it wasn't long until he collected it up and set off to find something to eat. He was hungry, and a man like whim who burned as much energy every day needed to refill his engine. Going hungry wasn't a good idea for him at all. He'd grab something to eat and go home, watch some TV and go to bed.

_I just hope tomorrow's better. _

* * *

><p>The thought built up inside him whilst he was putting together some dinner. It was a rather large and painful thought, and it crept up on his hangover like distant storm clouds. Something about a telephone. Something... important. Something... obvious.<p>

Something about...

Uh oh.

It was possible, in his haste to leave this morning, that he had put the wrong telephone number on the piece of paper. It wasn't... necessarily the case. He had left in rather a hurry. And... he was so used to having that number, he'd had it for years, he'd had it for longer than he'd had the number here.

Bernard stopped cooking, turned off the hotplate, and went to find something to cure a headache.

He was soon seated in front of the telephone, with a piece of paper, a pencil, and a determined expression. At least he knew the number well.

It rang a few times before it was finally picked up by somebody on the other end. Bernard held his breath, waiting for the other person to speak.

"Hello?" the bright and familiar voice of Minion came over the line.

Bernard sat there for several beats, mouth open, unable to come up with anything to say.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" the fish asked, before gasping. "Is this a prank phone call?"

"I... No. Hello. Um. You have my phone." _whoops. Not what I was intending to say. Damn._

There was a pause. "Really?"

"I mean... It's. I mean. Hi. It's Bernard. I'm wondering if I could have my phone. Back. Please?"

"Mr. Bernard! Oh wow, I'm so sorry!" the fish apologized. "I didn't realize Sir still had your phone like this! No wonder that explains... ah! Right, yes! Your phone!" he heard heavy foot falls over the phone, the fish obviously making his way around the lair. "I can give it back to you of course! Sir has no right to still have it!"

"Thank you. How... where... I sort of need it in a hurry."

"I could meet you at front of the museum, is that good?"

"That sounds excellent. Okay. Thank you. Yes. Oh, of course, because you're not. I mean. You're. Heroes now, aren't you?"

"Yes, we are. We have a signal and everything!" Minion exclaimed.

"A signal?"

"Sir says it needs to be a lot bigger though. Oh right your phone! When is a good time for you?"

"Now?" Bernard tried not to sound too plaintive, but he couldn't keep the desperation out of his voice.

"Now? Hm. Yes I can do now. Sure! I'm so sorry about this, Mr. Bernard. I would have thought Sir would have given it back to you! I can-Sir please, where's the car keys?"

In the background he heard Megamind ask why. "Because I need to-oh never mind I found them."

"Okay. I'll... I'll meet you there, then."

Bernard raced around the circuit of his home one more time, grabbing in passing his favourite brown coat, the keys, and his wallet, then careered out the door, slamming it shut locked behind him. He was up the stairs before he remembered where his car was.

Still at the club.

Hmmmm.

Okay. Well, it was too far to walk to the Museum, Minion was sure to be in a hurry now, there was no time. He could catch a cab... if he could... find one. Unlikely. A combination of these. Bernard set off at a jog. He was just exiting his apartment when down the road he spotted his saving grace... a bus! And not just any bus, the free circuit bus that made a round of the city and he knew it stopped at the museum.

He bolted down the road, ran across the street and narrowly avoided a car turning the corner, to come to a stop at the bus stop. Panting heavily he thanked whoever was in charge for giving him one good thing today.

When the bus approached the museum Bernard heard some people fussing on the bus and he spotted why easily. Minion was there, just like he said he would be, sitting on the front steps. He looked almost ridiculous sitting out there in public when beforehand most people would be lucky to spot the fish at all. Since he was... well, Minion... he was always in the shadows while Megamind flaunted his evil for the city to see.

In fact... he was already signing autographs by the look of it. Cute.

Bernard felt a nasty attack of nerves as he exited the bus. Meeting Minion. Everyone else seemed to be having a fine time just walking up and talking to the fish in the gorilla suit... how did they do that? How did they just... meet their hero without panicking?

He stood to the side, waiting for an opening in the crowd, watching the interaction.

"Mr. Bernard!"

Minion had spotted him through the crowd. He finished signing a little boy's hat and handing it back to him before getting to his feet and made his way over to the man. "There you are!"

"Here I am. I, I... I... thank you for the phone. I really needed it..."

The fish pulled the phone out from.. somewhere. Did he have compartments in his robot body to fit things? Probably. Minion held it out to him. "I had strict words with Sir about stealing people's property and it's fully charged. I'm so, so sorry about all of this."

"That's great. Great. Fine. Thank you. Did... Did anyone happen to." Bernard sheepishly eyed all the people around them. "Did anyone... _Call_ the phone? Other than than me?"

Minion pursed his lips together as he too seemed to look at the people around them before he nodded his small fish body. "Somebody called today..."

"He did? They did? Oh, good. GOOD! Thank you!" He smiled delightedly.

The fish laughed. "You're welcome! I'm glad you're glad. I best get back though. I still have dinner in the oven and I'd hate for it to turn black."

"Of course. Thankyou." Bernard held the phone so tight in his hand that it hurt. "Thankyou. I'll see you... Later."

"U huh! Later!" the fish waved before making his way through the people back to a car that nobody else seemed to be capable of seeing.

"This is street theatre, people!" Bernard snarled at everyone, turned on his heel, and walked as fast as he could towards the service entrance to the Museum.

Privacy was achieved after he had used his keys to open and then lock himself into a service corridor under the museum. He knew that there was telephone service here from experience... and there was.

Right. Recently received calls... This telephone had had a lot of use, by the look of it. Many calls. He chose the most recent one and hit the dial button.

The phone rang once. "Hello?"

"Oh no! I'm sorry, this must be a wrong number."

"Megamind?"

"No, it's Bernard."

"...Bernard? The _real _Bernard?"

"I'm not a fake," he replied bitterly.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry. Just last time I talked to 'Bernard' it turned out to be Megamind and... yeah that was a bit of a mess."

"You don't say." A mess? Well, he'd woken smelling of laundry powder, so perhaps his had been neater, but it definitely hadn't felt like it.

"Right, sorry Bernard." Roxanne apologized.

"I just got my phone back, and I'm trying to get my life back. I'm sorry. You won't hear from me again. Wrong number." Definitely wrong. Totally wrong.

"Well you don't have to drop off the face of the planet, you know. But I hope things work out for you, I really do. If you ever need anything I guess you have my number now, huh?" she asked.

"I guess I do. Goodbye."

"Bye Bernard." she said, before hanging up.

Bernard slid down the wall and sat on the floor of the hall, staring at the opposite wall, and cradling the telephone.

Once he had calmed down, he went back to calls recieved. He could now recognise Roxannes number. Roxanne Roxanne Roxanne... This one was different. Different number. Waynes number?

Only one way to find out.

Okay.

_I can do this._

Bernard hit the dial button and put the phone straight up to his ear, listening to the ringing.

It rang a few times, and then it was picked up.

"Hey there! This is Wayne Scott, and you've reached my phone but unfortunately I'm not there to talk to you right now. But if you could leave a message and your number, I'll get back to you as fast as I can. Catch you later!"

Bernard jumped, banging his head against the wall, at the loud cheery voice, and dropped the phone. It concluded its little message, made a loud beep, and went silent. Cursing, he hit the red button and his phone hung up.

Great.

_Need to leave a message._

_Have to phone it again._

_Oh, god, he's going to get that message first and it was all swear words because of the wall._

It took him several minutes to calm down enough to compose some sort of a coherent message and pull together the courage to make the call again.

_To be continued_


	4. My Hero

"Hey there,"

Bernard sat quietly, waiting for the rest of the blurb, and the beep.

"...Hello?"

"Oh! Oh no! Argh! Hello!"

"Bernard?" Wayne's voice, which had started out as a normal every kind of telephone greeting brightened slightly. "H-hey!"

"Sorry. Sorry sorry I thought you were a record. Recording. M-m-machine."

"Well, last I checked I'm not..."

"I mean... I, I, I was going to. It had a... Um." Bernard took a deep breath and tried to remember what he had been going to say.

"I understand." Wayne replied softly. "I just got in to be honest. How are you?"

"Okay. Um. Hello-I-am-fine-how-are-you." Bernard blushed scarlet, and hit his forehead gently several times against the wall. Why did phone conversations never _ever_work?

"You sound like a robot, now. And I'm... I'd like to say good, but I dunno yet, really. I'm all over the place."

"S-so am I. I've b-been reading books out of the oven again."

"Out of the oven? ...are they hot books?" Wayne asked, curious as to what 'out of the oven' meant.

"Yes. No! I mean. Oh no."

"Relax, I just never heard that phrase before. Do people usually keep books in an oven?" he asked.

"Y-you probably haven't. Um. Sorry. I'm all confused. I... I mean, I keep books in the oven, yes, but I'm s-sure no one else does..."

Wayne chuckled gently over the phone. "That's an interesting place to keep them, that's for sure..."

"I ran out of shelves." Somehow this conversation wasn't going where he had planned it to go. Where _had_he planned it to go? Something about... "Dinner?"

There was a brief pause over the phone, and Bernard swore he could hear the surprised look on the man's face through the receiver. "Dinner sounds good."

"Good. I'myes... Good. Dinner. Yes. We... Where would you like. Dinner?"

"When do you want-" Wayne had started to say but Bernard's question as to where was asked at precisely the same moment. He stopped, and thought quickly. There were so many places in Metro City to get a good meal, and the usual places he frequented were considered the more 'high class' locale.

"I mean. I could cook... it won't be cooked in the oven though but..."

"What, no book meals?" Wayne asked.

"They... they don't taste as good as you might think."

"I guess not. Well... uh, that is if you don't want to cook we could go somewhere. That is, if you're all right. Going somewhere. With me. I can understand if you don't want to, that's fine."

"I... It's a good idea. I'd... That would be. I thought you wouldn't... I thought it would be me I mean... Um. So. We could... go to a restaurant?" _I would be embarrassed to be seen with him? Doesn't he mean the other way around?__  
><em>  
>"If you want to?" he paused, and coughed nervously. "I know a lot of great places we could go if you want..."<p>

"I'm. Yes. P-please."

"Awesome. Great. Good. So, uh. When is a good day for you?" he asked. He wanted to offer to make a booking that very night but last time he tried being so... well, eager about anything it had ended in tears and he didn't want that happening again.

_Not tonight?_"I... I'm free. I m-mean." He felt the blush turning an even deeper shade of red. "T-tomorrow?"

_Not tonight?_"Tomorrow's good. Tomorrow's great for me, yeah." Wayne replied.

"We. That's. That's great. Great. So. What time? I mean... And where. We could. There are movies too."

Wayne was quiet over the phone for a moment, and Bernard heard him go 'hmm' thoughtfully. "Well... how about we do both. I could come round and pick you up around five, six? Or, or if you want to just meet somewhere. That's good too?" he asked.

_Now. Come pick me up now._"Five. Oh! No! Wait! I'll be at work."

"Right. Five's not good. Uh... what time do you get off? Finish. I meant finish."

_Right. Now. Damn._"I should be out by five thirty. I can be anywhere at all at six. I... just want to see. See you. Please."

The museum's recorded warning of oncoming closure sounded all around Bernard. "Attention, the Museum will be closing in fifteen minutes."

"Wait, where are you?" Wayne asked, despite knowing full well all of a sudden. "Wait. Stupid question. You're in town?"

"Yes. I had a little trouble... I had to get my phone. Which is why. I didn't answer. I'm sorry... it was sort of odd cos..."

Wayne suddenly remembered his and Megamind's phone conversation that morning. He wanted to suddenly ask why Megamind had his number, had his phone, but found the question lodge itself sideways in his throat.

To shake it loose he coughed. "If, ah. If you want I could... just come by the museum now if you want but if you're heading back home I know it's been a long day. It has been, hasn't it?" Wayne asked, grappling with so many questions raging at once.

"Yes. Yes let's do that then we can. Yes! Please! Now is good."

The nerves were suddenly gone. "Now? Awesome. Great! Uh. Wait there. I won't be long, I promise."

"But I haven't told you-" Bernard realised that the phone had gone dead. "-where I am... I guess. I guess I'll go and wait on the front steps then."

* * *

><p>After spending what felt like an hour, but was actually only a second thanks to his super speed, Wayne settled on something to wear that wasn't too smart but wasn't too casual either. It was cool out, so shorts or anything like it was out of the question. Simple faded denim jeans were chosen, along with a red t-shirt that had a black design on the front that might look like a dragon to some. Over that he pulled a simple black jacket on, and once he had shoes on he was off running for the museum.<p>

He had to remind himself to calm down, to get control all over again by the time he reached the museum. How much time had passed, really? Oh crap, things were still frozen in time weren't they? Looking down at his watch he was shocked to see only two minutes had passed since he'd last spoken to Bernard on the phone.

So he doubled back and leaned against a building a block away from the museum as he came out of super speed. "That was close." he muttered to himself.

Of course now that meant he had to stop and wait for a more acceptable amount of time had passed. How long would it have taken him, normally? Ten minutes to change. Another ten to get here from his building... crap. Twenty minutes.

* * *

><p>Bernard walked back onto the steps of the Museum. Minion was gone, and the crowd had mostly dissipated, and a last few stragglers were leaving the Museum. He sat on the warm stone at one end of the staircase, and watched two people bicker over who had flagged down a cab.<p>

_How long would it take him to get from there to here?_ The argument was an impressive one, they had started waving their arms, and one of them punched the cab angrily. The cabbie put up the windows and drove serenely away. _Well, if he was Metro Man... Probably not all that long. _The two people yelled at each other, and a crowd gathered around them. _In fact, if he IS Metro Man, he'd be here by now._

Bernard looked up and down the street. No one looked even slightly like the remarkable man he'd met.. Only the night before? Was that right? That couldn't be right... _Anyway, even if he IS Metro Man he is going to be very good at hiding it._

* * *

><p>Wayne was watching the fight from his vantage point, luckily Bernard couldn't see him from here but that was one of the few joys of being able to adjust his eyesight like somebody would toy with an telescope. It was looking bad, and a part of him wanted to go out there and pull the two men away from each other but...<p>

_No. That isn't who you are anymore, remember?_

He'd been chasing after these people and fixing their problems for majority of his life. How many times had he saved the same dang cat from the same tree? Opened jars for children and older women who would, ultimately, hit on him? And the young girls who would purposely put themselves in danger so he would have to save them, hoping that he would fall head over heels for them?

It alarmed him by just how many times that _last_one had happened.

Roxanne was just about the only sane woman he knew, it seemed, and she had broken a speaker over his head and everything.

He looked down at his watch again. Ten minutes. Jeeze...

* * *

><p>The two men had dropped their bags and one had rolled up his sleeves. Bernard frowned. <em>Right in front of the museum? Isn't that a bit...?<em> The citizens of Metro City were always ready to see a spectacle. All of them gathered, watching. A little boy yelled "Fight!" and more people gathered. _Over a taxi?_

"In front of the museum? Are you kidding?" A familiar voice said. Bernard lifted his head, scanning the crowd. There she was. "What do you think you're doing?" _Oh no._

A loud and angry conversation started between George and the men. She stood there, furious, obviously having just left the museum, still in her work clothes... And Bernard could see what was going to happen next.

George finally said "Grow the HELL up!" and Bernard bolted for the knot of people, as the first man took a swing at her.

The rest was a bit of a blur. He had intended to come and defend her, George was no doubt out of her league, but all he seemed to manage was to push through the people, and get hit by something large and solid. Then he was on the ground staring up at the sunset. It was a very pretty sunset.

* * *

><p>It had all happened so fast and yet time felt as though it was slowing down without any of his help. There was George, as formidable as she had appeared the night before, yelling at two men who obviously had their own problems to deal with. He had hoped by then some kind of security from the museum would intervene but it appears a single woman was going to try and put the whole thing to bed.<p>

And then there was Bernard.

And one of the men punched him.

For the past few months Wayne had separated himself from these people and their little problems. Their arguments, their petty little squabbles that could easily escalate. Megamind hadn't been his only problem, after all. Sure he had felt bad leaving them as he did but it had been for a good reason, hadn't it? Himself. He had to look out for _himself_and not get caught up in this world of playing the hero all over again.

But it all suddenly shattered the instant Bernard was down.

He couldn't remember pushing through the crowd, nor grabbing the man by the front of his shirt and lifting him up off the ground. Wayne was barely aware of the people around him anymore. It was like a god damn auto-pilot.

"I hardly think this is the proper behaviour in front of a museum. Don't _you_?" he growled at the man before setting him roughly back down on the ground and reached out, grabbing the other squabbling man before he could make an escape. "Think about this. A taxi. A _taxi_. That's what you've done this over?" he demanded in a low, hissing voice, voice shaking with so much emotion it was a wonder he wasn't screaming. In fact it was probably more disturbing at the fact he _wasn't._

"All of this is over a taxi?" George fumed.

He turned, and looked at the woman, but still held the men in his inescapable grip. "A taxi." he answered before looking down at Bernard, before looking back at the men. "So what's going to happen if I let you go? What are you going to do?" he asked. "Let's find out."

And he let them go, backed away and knelt down over Bernard. It seemed as though they couldn't meet without something happening.

He could hear George yelling something at one of the retreating taxi fighters. Bernard stared up at him, and gave a slow blink.

"Nothing but trouble aren't you?" Wayne asked softly, brushing a hand through Bernard's fly-away hair.

"Ow." Agreed Bernard.

"Is Bernie okay?"

"Well he's talking. That's one thing." he answered, glancing up at the woman quickly before looking back down at the man. How was Bernard (Or George) to know that the man was now using his x-ray vision to check for any real damage? Not seeing any he very carefully helped the bespectacled man to sit up. "Careful, careful..." Wayne whispered.

"Bernie. You idiot. What did you think you were going to do? Stutter them into submission?"

"Hey cut it out!" Wayne snapped, looking up at George. "He just did this for you, show some kind of gratitude even if you don't deserve it!"

"He could have been _hurt_!" George fired back.

"You're right, he could have. It could have gotten much worse." Wayne said, trying to restrain himself all over again. "That was very brave, but very stupid, Bernard." he said to the man softly.

"Everybody's yelling."

"Sorry. I'm sorry." _Oh God, no. No. It's just like before. It's happening all over again isn't it?_

"And you came. And my eye hurts."

"You're going to probably have a black eye... lucky your glasses didn't..." Wayne said quietly. "And of course I did, I told you I'd be here fast as I could..."

"Here's his glasses." George was kneeling next to them now, holding the twisted spectacles.

Wayne watched her carefully, then looked down at the destroyed glasses. He sighed. "Man, look at them... he's lucky they didn't do anything to his eyes... who punches a man with glasses, anyway?" he suddenly regretted letting the man go. _Should have dangled him over a building. No, no, no. Bad. Bad.__  
><em>  
>"She does." Answered Bernard, with a wry smile, and George giggled slightly.<p>

"Wasn't me this time though."

"True. When you punched me, I was out for an hour."

The ex-hero didn't know what to say to that, so all he did was _look_at the woman.

"Don't look at me like that, it was how we met. And I didn't do it on purpose."

He continued to look at her for a while longer before slowly looking away from her, and to Bernard. "We need to get you checked over." he said. "You've got a nasty black eye coming in, and your glasses have scratched you up a bit..."

"This wasn't supposed to happen."

Wayne was carefully helping Bernard to his feet, holding onto one of his hands while also holding his back. "No, it... it wasn't, was it?" he asked weakly.

"Can you take me home?"

George made an amused sound, from where she was kneeling next to them.

Pointedly Wayne ignored the sound. "Yes. Of course I can."

"That ploy is going to eventually stop working, Bernard."

"Shut up."

"And you'll never get laid ag-"

"Shut UP!"

"Haha." George stood up and dusted herself off. "Well, have fun, boys. I'm going home."

"Good bye." Wayne said stiffly, not really looking at her. He was afraid if he did, he'd say or do something he would regret.

"See you later. Don't say I didn't warn you." George turned on her heel, picked up her discarded briefcase, and walked away down the street.

"I really don't like her." Wayne said simply to Bernard as he began helping him away from the crowd of people who had mostly dispersed since the two men had run off. "What's your street?" he asked, "I can get you home from here."

"I'm pretty sure she doesn't like you either." Bernard leaned on this warm strong man slightly more than he needed to. "It's a bus ride away. Oh god, my car has _got_to have a ticket by now. It's closer. Um... Can you drive? No, wait, did you bring a car?"

Wayne blinked, and glanced around the immediate area. They had made some distance from the museum now and were passing by the same spot he had been watching everything from, and there weren't that many people around.

A whirlwind of answers to that question erupted in his mind and he couldn't grab at one. He didn't bring his car, no. He hadn't driven. He didn't have money for a taxi, or a bus. He could drive, yes, but hard to do without a car. Could he tell him that... that he flew here? That he flew so fast time had gone still, that he had been sitting there waiting for an appropriate amount of time had passed? Should he? Shouldn't he?

"It's just that, I've left my car just around the corner here, but I'm not supposed to drive without glasses..."

_Oh thank God. That works_. "I can drive it." he answered. "Let me guess, the club? I know the place from here..."

"Yeah, that would be it."

"This way then..."

They were soon standing beside the car in question. It had several parking tickets attached to the window wipers, and it seemed some birds had made some mess on the windshield as well.

"Hello Bessie." Bernard leaned forward and rested his forehead on the bonnet of the quiet black Ford. "Mmmm. Warm."

Wayne reached out and slipped the parking tickets off and pocketed them before looking at Bernard with a worried expression. He reached out and touched his back gently. "Do you have your keys?"

"Yes." Bernard rummaged in a pocket, pulling out a huge bunch of keys. "The green one. With the green. I mean. The key with the green bit."

Nodding, Wayne took the keys from Bernard's hand, enjoying the brief touch from the other man before unlocking the driver's side of the car first. He then helped Bernard into the passenger seat, and got into the drivers seat. It was a nice little car, to be sure, and suited Bernard well.

Bernard sat there, looking at his broken glasses in his hands, fiddling with an arm, flipping it in and out.

Turning the car on Wayne turned on the windshield wipers quickly to clean it of the bird's droppings. The radio sparked to life and a slow song came on, one of the many songs Wayne knew. _Cosmic Dancer. Ironic._

"She didn't mean it. I mean. I'm. I wish George hadn't said that."

"You don't have to apologize for her." Wayne replied quietly as he pulled out onto the road.

"I'm not. It's just. She's."

"One of those people who says things without thinking? Or one of those people who knows what they're saying, knows what it'll do, and says it anyway?"

"One of those people who knows me too well and predicts what I'll do or say on far too many occasions."

Wayne frowned slightly, but said nothing as he concentrated on driving.

"Uh... Where are we going?"

"I was waiting for you to tell me." he replied on a weak laugh.

"My house is that way. You're taking me to your house."

"Sorry. Auto-pilot." Wayne managed a legal U-turn, and started heading in the right direction.

"I... I'm not against going to your house."

"...after what... happened there last time I don't.. really want to go there yet." Wayne said slowly, carefully.

"Well. We can make new mistakes at my house. Or. New to you. I. Well."

Wayne mentally hissed at himself for saying what he had said. Why had he brought that mess up? He shouldn't have, since he was certain Bernard didn't want to be reminded of it at all. _He_ wanted to forget it. _Idiot_. "The night's young. Let's see what happens?" he asked.

Bernard finally turned and looked at him, and smiled hopefully. "That sounds good."

Wanting to look at him too, but knowing he couldn't since he was driving, Wayne just managed a small, equally hopeful smile. "It does, doesn't it?" he smiled. The song on the radio faded into another song, and it seemed as though the radio was trying to hint at something since now it was playing... well.

_And I wonder if I ever cross your mind, for me it happens all the time. It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now. Said I wouldn't call but I've lost all control and I need you now. And I don't know how I can do without, I just need you now._

They zigzagged through the city, Bernard directing. Bernard was leaning closer and closer to him, and when they finally reached Bernard's parking garage, Bernard rested his head on Wayne's shoulder while they waited for the wide roller door to open.

Wayne glanced down at him and smiled softly, wanting to wrap his arm around him to pull him in closer but it was impossible to do that in the car. He did however brush his cheek, albeit briefly, against the man's wild hair before pulling back in order to drive into the parking garage to find Bernard's designated spot.

He turned the engine off and they both sat in the car. It was perfectly silent. Bernard was warm on his shoulder.

_What do I do? What do you do? Agh... agh..._Wayne looked down at the man and smiled, despite what happened before things suddenly felt as though the night had gone wonderfully. It hadn't though, of course not. Bernard was hurt. He'd been hit. And he had wanted to break the man who'd done it. And that woman... he reached with his right hand and pushed it through Bernard's hair gently.

"If you want to sleep in the car by all means, but we really need to clean up your eye a bit." he whispered.

"Mmmph. Promise you won't be upset by how messy my house is?"

"I promise." Wayne said before giving a small, playful smile. "You want me to carry you?"

"I'm far far too heavy for you to carry." Bernard sat up properly and wrestled with his seat belt for a moment. "I'd better walk. It's not far."

"You're not too heavy." answered Wayne as he reached over and unlatched his seat belt for him. "I lift weights a lot." _You should see me lift a train over my head.__  
><em>  
>"I can make it to my front door." Bernard opened the door, stumbled out of the car, and leaned on the side of the vehicle. "I think."<p>

Wayne got out of the car, locking it after them, before watching him carefully. "You think?" he asked.

"Hmmm."

"One time offer to be carried to your room, right here?" Wayne asked, opening his arms to him.

"What would the neighbours think?" Bernard stumbled into Wayne's arms.

"'Damn he's lucky'." he answered as he easily enclosed his arms around the smaller man briefly before lifting him up off the ground. While it felt like he was carrying nothing, Wayne knew how to make it look as though he was _really_using his muscles to do this.

"They'd be very. Very. Right." Bernard leaned into Wayne's shoulder, so that his head was almost touching Wayne's.

"I know." smiled Wayne as he carried him through the parking garage to the exit. After climbing a set of stairs he exited out into a hallway that had access to an elevator. Pressing the button with his elbow he peered down at Bernard. "What floor are you on?" he asked as the doors opened immediately since it seemed somebody must have just left via them.

"Um... First Basement."

"Basement?"

"It's one level up from here." Bernard winced. "It's... Not got views."

"Interesting. All right. Let's go..." the time that passed between pressing the button and the doors reopening again seemed almost instantaneous. "Well. Home sweet home."

"Door is just down there. Around that corner."

Following orders Wayne went around the corner, and after Bernard handed him the keys to the apartment door, he unlocked it and carefully pushed the door open. He didn't want to knock something over, after all.

The last of the afternoon sun was streaming in wide golden shafts through the slit windows on one side of the apartment. The central bookcases were well lit, the bookcases on the walls more shadowy. Books were piled on the floor in every direction, with just enough floor space in each bookcase-lined section to be able to reach every bookcase and corridor. It wasn't really messy: just very very full.

"My... The bathroom and kitchen is over there. It's got a first aid kit, and my spare glasses..."

"Got it."

Wayne was careful as he made his way through the narrow pathways, not wanting to knock a pile of books over since that would make walking around here even more difficult and possibly upset the man in his arms. He didn't want to do neither, of course. Once they reached the bathroom which, too, had some books sitting on top of the medicine cabinet, he set Bernard down on the toilet seat lid.

"Let's have a better look at you." he said, gently touching Bernard's chin and tilted the man's head slightly as he looked at his swelling eye. "Hmm..."

"I probably have steak in the fridge. Isn't that what you're supposed to use?"

"Normally it's best to use a cold pack, or a cloth filled with ice. Do you have ice in your fridge?" Wayne asked.

"I think... I might?"

"Wait here. I'll go check." and with that Wayne walked away to go searching for ice in Bernard's refrigerator. He pulled it open and found a blue ice pack sitting in there, but it had no water in it. Frowning slightly he pulled it out of the fridge before an idea hit him. Very quickly he filled the tray with water from the sink tap before drawing it close to his face. Taking in a controlled breath, he calmed, and blew onto the water with his ice breath. Instantly the water became cubes in the tray, and he shut the door of the refrigerator.

"You've got some!" he called out to Bernard as he found a handy cloth and emptied the cubes into it.

"That's good. I thought I'd used them up." Bernard was standing in the bathroom doorway when he turned around.

Returning to him, Wayne first reached out and touched Bernard's face. "Let me just double check first..." he said as he drew a little closer, making sure that there wasn't any blood in the white, or coloured, parts of Bernard's eye. And no, he certainly didn't do it to get this close to the man, of course not. What kind of ex-hero would he be to take advantage of a situation like this? "Mmm... no, no you're good..."

"Not yet." Bernard leaned forward and kissed Wayne determinedly on the lips.

Wayne's eyes widened and he was certain he lost his grip on the ice filled pack entirely but, oddly, didn't care at all. His eyes shut, and he returned the kiss.

When they both finally came up for air, Bernard grinned and looked him in the eye. "Now I'm good."

"That is... certainly one word for it." Wayne replied.

"I've... kind of been wanting to do that for a while now." Bernard put his hand up to gingerly touch his face around his eye, and winced. "Glad... I finally did."

Wayne smiled softly before drawing in close, and kissed his jaw gently. "So am I." he said before kneeling down in order to collect the ice before it make a mess on the floor.

"That's good. Heartening. Ow."

"Here, here..." Wayne pressed the cloth carefully against Bernard's injured eye, making sure he wasn't applying pressure to the eye though since that was a bad idea. "This will help, the swelling." _He just kissed me. Oh my God. Okay. Keep it together, keep it together._

"Ow. Owowowow."

"I know, I know." whispered the man. "It'll sting."

"It is. I need to sit down again no-oww!"

"Sorry!" Wayne said, before laughing and nudged his shoulder gently. "Come on, let's go find you a seat amongst this sea of books."

"That side. There's sun that side." Bernard swayed through the circuit of books, holding the ice to his eye with one hand. He was soon seated on one end of a wide old green lounge chair, madly trying to remove books from the other end of it with one hand while he held the ice to his face with the other.

"Here, let me. Let me..." Wayne didn't want to see him fussing, so he began collecting the books and moved them carefully aside in case they were in some kind of crazy order.

"Trying. To make room for you. Oh, don't worry, stack them anywhere. They don't live here anyway."

"Roger." nodding, Wayne found a place to set them before moving back to Bernard's side on the green couch.

"Good. There." Bernard pushed him along, leaned over and rested his head on Wayne's lap. "Much. Better."

Chuckling, Wayne reached down and ran his fingers through the man's hair once again as he smiled down at him. "Better?" he asked with a warm smile. "Good. Since I think after your ordeal you deserve to feel better all over."

"Mmmhm."

"...I really am... sorry about how our last meeting went." Wayne whispered quietly. "The last thing I wanted was to upset you and I was... well. Afraid you wouldn't want to see me again."

"I'm afraid I got very drunk. I wasn't making a lot of sense."

"No, I think you were making sense. I shouldn't have made you feel that I was... I don't know." the man shrugged, and sighed. "Either way... the fact you wanted to see me again made me feel happy. Happier than I've felt in a while."

"I'm happier too."

This wasn't Megamind. This wasn't Megamind at all. Realizing this, a weight, a heavy knot in his heart finally unwound itself and melted into thin air.

"I had this... this crazy idea. That you were someone else. I'm really glad I was wrong. I mean, I thought it would be... I'm not making any sense again."

Wayne froze.

"Someone else?" he asked.

"It was an incredibly crazy idea." Bernard smiled. "Probably brought on by work, when I think about it."

Wayne stared down at him for a moment. "Tell me?"

"No. Nonono it really is crazy. I know it is now. I apparently just needed the sense knocked into me."

Wayne watched him carefully, then reached down and touched his hair again, sighing as he did.

"I'm so glad I was wrong. It's a relief. Really."

The guilt was suddenly back. The same kind of guilt he had been feeling when hiding under that school house, after Megamind and Roxanne had left. He hadn't been hurting anyone like this before, was he? It was just him. Suddenly, with Bernard resting his head in his lap like this, having felt his lips against his own finally... this feeling was... overpowering. _I should tell him. I have to tell him. If I don't, and... and we become closer than this, what would it do to him? What would it do to us? God. Okay. Keep calm.__  
><em>  
>And then he remembered seeing Bernard in tears, and it felt like he was getting a knife to the gut all over again. What if he made him cry again? What if Bernard felt betrayed? What if he kicked him out of his life, for good, and never sought him out again?<p>

_This was so much easier when I was a hermit._

"How long do I have to have an icepack for?" Bernard shifted uncomfortably.

"I'm Metro Man."

_To be continued_


	5. Tonight's the Night

**Tonight's the Night**

"Bullshit."

Wayne said nothing for a moment before reaching up and scratched the back of his neck. While he wanted to laugh, say it was a joke, he knew that was wrong. He didn't want to lie about this, not to Bernard of all people. Looking down at the man he smiled nervously.

"No. Metro Man." he said.

"Hmmm. Prove it." Bernard pulled the icepack off his face. He looked a mess, wet, red and bruised, but he looked Wayne right in the eye.

"Prove it." Wayne echoed the phrase. "Hrm. Prove it." he dragged a finger along his bottom lip as he thought. What could he do, to prove it? There wasn't much room to move in, was there? He could lift one of the book cases but the ceiling wasn't that tall so he wouldn't be able to lift it very high.

"If you're Metro Man, you can fly. So far I've not once seen you fly."

"That's true. You're right. Here..." he carefully helped Bernard to sit up on the couch, propping a few cushions behind him. "You're taking this better than I thought you would."

Wordlessly, Bernard took a small piece of white material out of his pocket and handed it to Wayne. It was clean, perfectly folded and pressed, with the monogram outward. His logo.

"...oh." he mumbled as he lifted the handkerchief out of Bernard's hand and looked down at it. "I see."

"I'm glad you didn't... I was worried you were going to mess around with me. Then I thought I was wrong, it was some... A mistake. A piece of fan art."

"Hah, no... no this... this was a gift." Wayne explained as he stared down at the white piece of material in his hands, running his thumb over the embroidered M. "From my mother." he added as his feet began to subconsciously leave the floor behind, and hung suspended in front of the couch and Bernard, standing on the very air itself.

"Huh. Magic. Now is the moment when I discover I got hit on the head harder than I thought." Bernard was staring at the ground, the way the feet hovered. "If this was at your place, I think I would have assumed you'd made a trick floor..."

Wayne laughed slightly before leaning forward so he was laying 'flat' while still remaining suspended in the air and folded the piece of fabric in his hands as he did. "You were just punched, Bernard. Nothing dropped on your head."

"I could be hallucinating this whole thing. It's... a very good dream though."

"Well. I'm not a dream." Wayne said before he reached forward and touched Bernard's face gently. "I'm very much real and very much the ex-hero of this city."

"It's... A little hard to believe that the former hero of the city is now a DJ at a nightclub." Bernard reached out to touch Wayne's face. "Oh... No, wait... you were a DJ before... before you quit? I definitely saw you there before you... uh. Died."

"Hmm." he nodded.

"I guess it's a little hard to quit that sort of job huh?"

"Easier to fake your death to stop being a hero like that, since. Well I didn't want to be that anymore. I wanted to be me, and being a DJ makes me happy." Wayne explained, leaning his head into Bernard's touch.

"I feel like you're just going to disappear under my hand."

"I wouldn't."

"You could, though, right? Like when you were in that interview, where you disappeared then rematerialised with ice cream and flowers and stuff, and everyone said it was a filming trick?"

"I could. I could slow time down entirely and do all manner of... hm. Things." Wayne said, "But it wasn't a trick. I'm not a magician, I'm... well. An alien. Who was either born with these kind of powers or they were increased by this planet's atmosphere. I don't know, I'm not a thinker like Megamind is." he admitted before sighing and drawing back slightly, still hovering in the air.

"No... but Megamind tends to out think... a lot of things. It's not as good a thing as you might assume."

"You're probably right." Wayne said. "So... what do you think?"

"I think... I need to be wary of out thinking this also." Bernard continued to reach out, not quite able to touch. As he leaned forward, Wayne remained slightly out of reach. Bernard frowned and flung himself off the lounge to take a grab at Wayne.

This surprised Wayne, and blinked in reaction but made no move to fly out of reach again. Bernard ended up kneeling on the floor in front of the seat, holding Wayne by the collar of his shirt. His eyes were very determined. "So. Metro man is alive and well and floating in my living room."

"He is...?" Wayne asked slowly. He was unsure of just what Bernard was going to do, or say, but was going to face it.

"And now he's going to kiss me."

"He is." Wayne agreed quietly, truly amazed that things had gone this way. He had anticipated screaming, things being thrown at his head again and guilt being thrust upon him all over again. The fact that Bernard had already worked out who he was, still demanded proof, and wasn't chasing him out of his apartment was... quite possibly the best thing to happen today.

So he did as Bernard instructed, and kissed him.

It was never just a simple kiss. It was like something magical, more magical than flying or super speed or super strength. Bernard had somehow got one of his hands into the former heroes hair, the other was holding very tightly onto the front of his shirt. When Bernard's tongue somehow insisted on entry, Wayne allowed him in. Wayne's hands found Bernard's back as well as his wild hair and his tongue arched desperately up against Bernard's own.

Bernard was tugging insistently at Wayne's shirt, pulling him closer and closer. There was a moment of confusion, and somehow Bernard found the leverage to push Wayne around, so that he was leaning over him, controlling what was fast turning into the kiss of the century. Their breathing was rough and harsh as their lips continued to press down against each other, Wayne's beard somewhat itchy against Bernard's smooth face but it was hardly a distraction.

Behind him something shifted, and a pile of books fell over with a slow rumble and slide. Bernard looked up with a worried expression.

Gulping at the air Wayne was vaguely aware of the disturbance behind them, but shifted his gaze to look at the books before looking back up at Bernard and smiled. "What?" he asked quietly, "What's that expression for?"

Bernard retreated slightly, seated on the floor, resting his back against the edge of the lounge. "Startled me, that's all."

By now Wayne had sat up, and had lowered himself so he was at least sitting on the ground now. "Oh, well. Is there anywhere we can do this where you won't be so easily startled?" he asked.

"No, no, I'm pretty much easily startled anywhere. Being this forward is pretty much a new thing."

Wayne drew closer to him and caressed his cheek with his thumb, smiling still. "Well, good. It's always good to try new things," he paused to kiss him again. "Don't you think?"

"This is a much better new thing than... any new thing. Ever." Bernard ran his hand through his own hair, a nervous gesture. "So much better."

"Hmm hmmm." he nodded before pulling back slightly and took the sight in of the man, flushed, hair a mess, and that poor eye of his that would no doubt hurt for days now. Who would ever have thought they would find themselves in this situation? "Come here." he held his hands out to him.

Bernard fell into those warm, strong, totally capable arms, and sighed, pressing his face against Metro Man's chest. They closed around him and he could hear the Wayne's powerful heart beating within his chest as the man's hands settled against his body. "Hnnn..." Wayne sighed, shutting his eyes and just took in the moment that he thought he might never have shared with the other man.

Bernard's hand ran slowly around the waistband of Wayne's jeans, then a finger slipped under the loose red T-shirt, and Wayne felt the slightest touch on his back.

Opening his eyes, Wayne looked at Bernard with both of his eyebrows almost vanishing into the mess that was his own loose, wavy hair. But he then smiled, toothily, and trailed his nose against Bernard's forehead while his own hands began to echo Bernard's. Like Wayne, Bernard was wearing a jacket over his button up shirt, so he lifted both articles of clothing to touch his warm and strong hands against Bernard's back.

"Maaaan your hands are warm." Bernard let the rest of his hand slip under the T-shirt to run his open hand under the fabric. "Your back is warm too. How do you stay so warm like that?"

"I don't know. Never really bothered by the cold or anything, to be honest." Wayne replied as he ran his fingers against Bernard's back, lost so much in the sensation in the feeling of Bernard's bare skin he barely noticed that the material was bunching up against his hands. And with his strength that, momentarily, lapsed began to slightly thread and tear.

"You feel like you're running a temperature." Bernard ran his fingers lightly in a circle, then dug in, trying to scratch with fingernails in the same circle. It had no effect, of course: Wayne was impermiable to things far stronger than fingernails. It felt good, though.

The man of strength soon realized that he was stretching Bernard's shirt and jacket and eased his hands down the man's back slowly until they came to a rest on his hips. "I guess so. But I could comment on how hot you feel, right now too..." he lifted his hands and took hold of the jacket's lapels and began to very slowly push it back, and off, Bernard's shoulders.

"Hardly likely, I've been chilled by that ice pack." Bernard shrugged out of his jacket with Wayne's help. This had the disadvantage of taking his hand away from Wayne's back, and the advantage of exposing Bernard's arms.

Wayne hadn't seen Bernard's arms before. Funny how, at a point like this, he suddenly realized this. The man had always gone around with long sleeves on, be them jackets, sequin suits, or long sleeved shirts even if he tended to dance up a storm in the bar every time he had seen him. Suddenly finding himself in the presence of bared arms reminded his mind that yes, Bernard had a _body_ under all those layers.

And that body wasn't just pale flesh which had far too rarely seen daylight. Bernard looked where Wayne was looking, put his other arm over his face and leaned back against the lounge, his head facing the ceiling as it rested on the seat. "Oh god, here we go."

"What, what's wrong?" Wayne asked. Had he done the wrong thing removing his jacket? Or had he spotted the raging boner he was currently sporting, that was fighting against his jeans?

"Come on, ask the question." Bernard said to the ceiling, hand still over his face. "Everyone always asks it."

Wayne continued being very confused, and still very aroused. Two very conflicting emotions that didn't do well when they met.

Bernard raised his head to look at Wayne. "You're not asking the question."

"No... I... uh. What...?" he asked, looking at Bernard's arms for more than what they were, other than a possible gateway to ripping that shirt off of his body to see more of his skin.

"Why is that written on your arm, Bernard? What does it mean Bernard? Is that a Tattoo Bernard?" Bernard used a strange sing song voice. He rubbed his arm without thinking, pressing his thumb deeply into the picture painted there.

"To be honest I didn't even notice." Wayne admitted.

"Didn't even notice? Well, that's a pleasant change."

Wayne laughed, before he reached out and took hold of Bernard's wrist and easily lifted the man's hand off of his arm, allowing him to look at the tattoo in question.

The tattoo wasn't very complex. A vertical series of six separate square boxes, each about an inch across, with letters and numbers in them. He, Ne, Ar, Kr, Xe, Rn. The numbers didn't follow any pattern that he could see.

He tilted his head slightly; thinking as best as he could given the situation. He gave a faint smile, though and looked at Bernard. "Cute."

"Isn't it just? Probably not really cute enough to make an indelible copy of... but I wasn't really thinking straight at the time, I guess."

The other man had drawn himself closer while Bernard was talking, but it was still a mild surprise when his nose brushed against Bernard's ear and his warm breath touched his neck. "Thinking straight is pretty boring, though." Wayne mumbled.

"Yes, I keep forgetting I'm talking to the man who faked his death using copper and a satellite bombardment."

Wayne froze, and his eyes opened but felt as though he wasn't really looking at anything. Slowly he withdrew, face suddenly grim. "...right."

"Damn. I said the wrong thing, didn't I?" Bernard looked up at him miserably.

"It's not... not really something I'm proud of. It was a necessary step to take to finding who I am but..." Wayne tried to explain before sighing, and pressed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. "Damnit."

"I meant that it was something I regret doing, and which I choose to live with the consequences of. You shouldn't... You shouldn't feel so bad. It worked out in the end. It was even a fairytale ending: Your nemesis became a good guy. I haven't heard of many super heroes able to put that down as their success story."

He lowered his hand and rested it in his lap, a sorry expression still on his face. "I still deserted everyone, didn't I?"

"It seems to me they had deserted you long before that. You were living some sort of fantasy, a lie made up by so many people at once... Any scholar could tell you that you were being controlled by the crowd. We never expected you to break free of them so successfully though. It was... It took everyone by surprise. But people are strong, we adapted."

Wayne nodded vaguely before running his hand through his hair again, shutting his eyes as he did. "I'm better off without living up to everyones expectations and wants of me. It's all I've done all my life and I just finally had enough, you know? I wanted... I wanted to get in touch with me. Wayne. Not... not Metro Man."

"So do I."

He opened his eyes at hearing this and looked mildly surprised, but also very grateful at the same time. "You're very witty. I like that." he smiled, "I like that a lot."

"I've often been told my tongue is a curse. Witty is an odd way to put it." Bernard gave a wry smile.

"Can I find out for myself?" Wayne asked. "On if it's cursed or not?"

"How do you propose to find out?"

His answer came in the form of yet another embrace, and Wayne's mouth all but crushing down against his own. Wayne's hands dug against the fabric of Bernard's shirt, and with a simple almost innocent tug there was a ripping noise and the fabric was removed entirely without the need for the two men to part at all.

Bernard mumbled into Wayne's mouth, both of his hands pushing up under his red T shirt, up his stomach to his chest, rolling the fabric upwards. It exposed the man's all but sculptured body, as well as the body hair that Wayne possessed. His arms felt so strong and sure around him, even if Wayne was still stuck wearing his own jacket and shirt. The growing desire to feel skin on skin was becoming all but impossible to ignore and despite how deeply they were kissing, and desperately grasping at one another, Wayne removed his arms from Bernard's body.

Bernard took the opportunity to awkwardly try to undress him. The jacket was caught around his arms, and there was a struggling moment as Bernard tried to pull one way whilst Wayne pulled the other. Wayne apologized, and allowed Bernard to take over the art of removing his jacket and red shirt. The clothing, unlike Bernard's ripped shirt, were soon deposited somewhere and knocked over even _more_ books.

Once that was done the two men paused, but only momentarily, before they returned to one another quickly. Skin met skin in ways they hadn't done before, while the kissing started up as if it would never end. Wayne turned out to be incredibly hairy under the shirt, and Bernard was delighted. Bernard found himself uncomfortably sprawled over a scatter of books, and managed to free his mouth enough to say "Should we... Should we move to somewhere more comfortable?"

"Good idea, great idea." Wayne mumbled against his jaw before the floor beneath Bernard fell away. After a moment though, and when nothing replaced the feeling of the ground, the brunette realized that Wayne was actually hovering off of the ground again. He grabbed onto Wayne with his arms and legs and whimpered. "Hey, hey... it's all right I won't drop you..." assured the flying man. "I wouldn't dare..."

Bernard turned his head to carefully contemplate the floor. It actually wasn't all that far away.

"Is it all right?" Wayne asked as one hand had, at some point, found Bernard's rear and was gripping him to ensure the man wouldn't go tumbling to the ground. That, or he was just groping for groping's sake.

"It... sort of is. I can see... I can see some uses for this already."

"Oh?"

"I will say... That your view in your apartment was not like flying at ALL."

Wayne laughed, squeezing Bernard's rear just a little more. "I'll take you on a flight one night, shall I?" he asked.

"Oh, I'd like that very very much." Bernard sighed, and squeezed his arms and legs even tighter around Wayne's body.

"That's great," Wayne agreed and nuzzled against Bernard's neck with his lips.

"Haaaah... That tickles..." Bernard pulled away, realised that he could fall, and pulled closer again.

"Ticklish? Bernard?" Wayne asked, sounding genuinely surprised, but didn't pull away.

"It's your... Eeeee... Your beard!"

Wayne chuckled, and nuzzled even closer now if just for the sole purpose of hearing Bernard laugh again. It had done... _something._ He had never heard such a breathy noise before come from anyone, much less Bernard, and it all resulted in the sound of tearing fabric filling the room. This made him freeze, however, and his eyes widened as he realized just what had happened.

Another pair of jeans, completely and utterly destroyed. And they had put up a good fight today, too, against his erection, but that last push was the last they could manage. Like so many jeans before them, they had fallen foul to the strength behind Wayne's erection which had also tore clean through his underwear as well.

"Uh... That... that was not a good sound, was it?" Bernard inspected Wayne's face thoughtfully.

"...just another pair of jeans destroyed." Wayne muttered, face burning.

"Destroyed? Destroyed... how...?" Bernard slowly let go of his legs around Wayne's chest then his arms, and lowered himself to stand on the floor, then had a look. "Oh."

Wayne didn't even attempt to hide himself at this point. What was the point?

"You... You seem to have sprouted... a..." Bernard started giggling uncontrollably, and staggered around to sit on the lounge, hands over his face.

"This is doing wonders for my confidence." Wayne said flatly as he reached down in an attempts to cover his dual sexual organs. While a single shaft looked human enough, at least in the dark, in the daylight like this you could definitely see slight differences. And the fact there were two of them, one positioned above the other one.

"Hahahahohow many pairs of trousers do you go through?" Bernard giggled.

"Enough that I have crates of them at home." replied the alien man through gritted teeth as his face remained a bloody red.

Bernard peeked through his fingers, saw the embarrassed flying man standing in front of him desperately trying to hide the _issue_ he was having, and fell back against the chair, roaring with laughter, hands still over his face.

The laughter had been fine before, now though, it was far from it. By now he had covered himself with his hands, but lowered himself to the floor and grabbed his jacket from where it had been tossed aside. Moment passed he felt it probably was time to just leave.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm just now realising how lucky I am that mine just leads to slightly awkward seating positions." Bernard wiped the tears from his eyes and tried desperately to get a hold of himself, a big smirk on his face. "I'm really sorry, I know it's rude to laugh." He looked Wayne in the eyes, grinning widely.

"This is partly why I've never gone after men too. Not just because who I am, or was." Wayne said flatly.

"You have got to see the funny side of this. All a normal man usually complains about... compared to this..." Bernard made a sweeping gesture. "And... And... My _god_ you must have some serious self control." Bernard's voice changed from laughter to plain awe. "You'd have to."

Wayne shrugged as he held his jacket in front of him, eyes now more or less staring at the floor. "I always knew I was different. I wanted to fit in with everyone and when I got to that age when you want to be with someone... I realized I couldn't. So I just. Didn't."

"Sure you can. So long as. I mean." Bernard looked worried. "I mean... I think we can. Why... why couldn't we?"

"I mean couldn't because Wayne Scott couldn't go around after men at all. Wayne Scott was meant to be straight. Wayne Scott wasn't Metro Man so how do you explain two dicks to somebody, without giving away who you were?" Wayne asked, still looking at the floor. "Impossible. I don't... but. No." he shook his head before looking at Bernard, fingers gripping his jacket still. "And I don't know. You don't have experience being with a guy who has two dicks, have you?"

"Um... No, no this would be a first. But. The... the idea should be the same." _Plus, you should see some of the things in that box under my bed. This is nothing._ "I can think of a few p-people who would be delighted t-to try this... A-and I'm not telling them! Don't look so worried!" Bernard put his hands up in front of him, palms spread. "You're no different to anyone else. Just... Just stronger. And better. That's all. Honest."

"And capable of flying." Wayne said before looking away, biting at his bottom lip.

"I said better."

"I should go."

"NO! Oh, please. No. Please. Oh no." Bernard looked utterly heartbroken.

"Sorry." Wayne said but didn't go anywhere. He seemed incapable of doing so, despite the great lashing his confidence had just sustained. Shutting his eyes the man sighed. "I'm just a big virgin aren't I?" he asked weakly.

"That... Now that I can fix. I mean." Bernard suddenly started blushing almost as much as Wayne. "I..."

Wayne couldn't help but give a soft chuckle at that, and moved closer to the man and slowly wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in for a hug. "I know."

"Mmmph." Bernard said against Wayne's chest.

"I'm sorry for messing this up." Wayne whispered into his hair. "I should have tried to at least tell you before..."

"You only just managed to tell me you were Metro Man." Bernard whispered back. "Although I think I'll modify that to Metro Bear..."

Wayne snorted and pulled back, narrowing an eye. "Metro Bear. Now that's an interesting choice."

"Accurate." Bernard reached out a hand, gripped a handful of chest fur and tugged gently. Obviously, it didn't budge an inch.

"I guess that's true." Wayne laughed, before looking down at Bernard for a moment. "Hrm." he narrowed one eye in a thoughtful kind of way before reaching forward, and pressed his palm against Bernard's stomach. "We have a problem."

"A problem?" Bernard's worried face was back.

"You're still more dressed than me. Shall we remedy that?"

"Oh? So it's a competition now?" Bernard backed away and fussed with the button on his trousers. "I'll just..." And then he turned and ran.

"Hey-!" Wayne couldn't help but laugh at just how nimbly the other man managed to run around his stacks of books without knocking a single pile over.

"Come and catch me then!" Bernard disappeared around a shelf.

"Are super powers allowed?" Wane asked as he began to follow after him, using his feet on the floor rather than fly.

"Wouldn't that be cheating?" From the sound of his voice, he had made it a good distance ahead. A bookcase blocked the most direct route. Where had he gone? Two gaps, left and right, both seemed to lead to darkness.

Wayne set his hands on his hips and scowled slightly before giving into the frivolity of it all and headed down one gap on the left. "Right right, no powers at all. I promise!" he called, feeling his way along the book cases and trying not to bump anything over.

There was a series of odd sounds from a goodly distance away, and he saw a light flare up. "It will be worth it, I promise."

"Worth it you say?" Wayne asked as he began moving with a destination now in mind, that being the glowing light in the distance.

"Sure. My bed is back here." He heard a distant pile of books get hurriedly evicted, and the light... flickered. "And... And some other stuff. And mind your step..."

"I'm being pretty careful already." Wayne answered as he approached the door that finally came into view after he moved around yet another book shelf. He had abandoned his jacket back at the couch and looking down at himself now, he saw just how useless it was wearing jeans that had such a malfunction.

He continued to walk, but eased the last pieces of clothing down his legs and left them abandoned on the floor as he continued to walk towards the doorway.

"Yeah, but at the door there's this... Ah, you found it? Sorry. I keep meaning to move that to a different location."

"I'm at _a_ door..."

"I honestly will hang it on its hinges before the next inspection, I swear."

Wayne carefully moved around the door and peered into the room.

It was a smallish room with a large canopied bed in the middle. A lot of books had obviously just evicted onto the floor, and the blue bed cover was definitely just made up. A candle lit the room with a warm glow. Bernard was sitting on the end of the bed wrestling with his shoes, his pants around his knees. He looked up at Wayne and grinned sheepishly. "I screwed up. First shoes, then pants. It doesn't work the other way around."

The man arched an eyebrow, a small, coy smile on his face. "So I see." Wayne said before walking into the room and knelt down in front of Bernard and began to help in the removal of not only shoes and socks, but his pants. "Here..."

"Thanks." Bernard tried to help, made the situation worse, and stopped.

"Here you go..." Wayne set his shoes down on the floor along with his socks before finally working the tan brown trousers off of Bernard's legs entirely as well as his underwear. He slowly looked up Bernard's body until his eyes met his, and smiled. "All better."

Both of them stopped, staring into each others eyes.

Then Wayne's hands were touching Bernard's shoulder and hair, and the two were kissing one another. Bernard ran both his hands through Wayne's beard, then to the back of his neck, then they, with a mind of their own, wandered down his back, and pulled. Bernard had soon coaxed the larger man forward so that he was over him on the bed, the kiss never breaking.

The heat radiating from Wayne was like standing near a furnace, and no matter where his hands happened to touch, it felt like he was leaving blazing trails of fire in their wake. Their kiss deepened effortlessly, both men now beginning to pant against each others lips as the desire for air began to smother their desire for one another.

They separated to breathe, and when Wayne looked at Bernard laying there beneath him he gave a soft chuckle since the man's glasses had fogged up. Reaching up he drew a lazy circle against one of the lenses. "How well can you see without them?" he asked.

"Things that are close are... okay. If they're the right sort of close. Too close and everything goes blurry again." Bernard blinked behind the lenses, his lashes touching one and leaving marks. "And of course, nothing is the perfect distance when I need it to be."

"How about now?" Wayne asked as he slowly slid the glasses away.

"Well, anything is an improvement from fog." Bernard pulled one hand back to rub his eyes. "But... You're mostly blur."

Wayne slowly pulled back. "Tell me when it's clearer."

"Too far."

"Now?"

Bernard frowned. "The problem with this is that you're now too far away to kiss."

Wayne laughed and drew in close again, and kissed him softly on the lips. "You're so problematic." _I love it._

"You're so perfect."

The man of strength wanted to deny that, since he knew he wasn't. There were many things wrong with him, but felt now wasn't the time to argue with the man laying beneath him. Instead he focused his attention on kissing his way down Bernard's neck and shoulder as his hands ran up and down his beautifully shaped hips.

Bernard whimpered and struggled under him, a musical instrument he was learning to play. He soon found he could get a repeat of a particularly amusing noise several times, and Bernard snarled at him. "Cut that out!"

"Aw..." Wayne grumbled against Bernard's neck. "But that was... fun." but he pulled back, and stared down at him. "So, what shall we do instead?"

"I'm not indestructible. You tickle me that much I'll explode." Bernard ran his hands down Wayne's chest hair.

The man sighed heavily, finding this simple gesture far more pleasurable than he thought possible. "Hnnn..." his eyes shut for a moment. "All right, all right... I'll try to keep the tickling to a minimum."

"How about... we find out whether you're ticklish?" Bernard was running his hands slowly up Wayne's sides, now, tips of his fingernails attempting to dig into his impermeable flesh.

Wayne blinked slowly before tilting his head slightly to peer down at Bernard's fingers and their attempt to tickle him. He waited, and when nothing happened, he scowled. "Well. That's disappointing."

"I guess it was unlikely." Bernard pushed his hands through Wayne's furry front again, then unexpectedly leaned forward and licked a nipple.

_This_ got a reaction. A shuddering, moaning reaction from the other man.

Bernard grinned, bared his teeth and bit down, first gently, then, realising who he was with, much harder. Of course it wouldn't hurt the man, _nothing_ could hurt the man presently settled on top of him, but it was obvious he could be pleasured though. His mouth fell open and he made a low, hungry noise as his whole body shuddered.

"I like the sound of that" Bernard whispered, then bit and tugged, seeing just how far he could go.

"Ahh, oh God you..." Wayne tried to make words function they way that they were supposed to, but found they were refusing to cooperate. One of his hands pressed down against the mattress and gripped at the sheets, somehow managing to control himself enough so he didn't rip clear through the fabric or the bedding beneath it.

Bernard's hand found the other nipple, and he did his best to treat both of them the same way, a smirk on his face, then pulled away to watch the look on his lovers face.

Nobody had ever seen such an expression on Wayne's face before. This sort of thing never _had_ happened before, finding himself in a situation like this. Of course it was new, and exciting, but was still relieved when Bernard stopped since too much might have caused an overload in his body. Breathing hard, he paused to swallow in an attempt to clear his mind, before opening his eyes and stared down at the man.

"..._that_," he said, "was definitely new."

"Good new, or bad new?" Bernard asked warily.

Wayne smiled and leaned down, bumping Bernard's forehead with his own and looked into his deep brown eyes. "Good."

"Good. I'm sure I can think up some more good new things as well."

"I'm sure you could." Wayne replied before kissing him yet again, having discovered just how wonderful it felt in the past hour. It was almost addictive.

Bernard's hands were everywhere, first his chest, where his nipples stood erect in their sea of fur, then his back and neck, and fingers tangled in his hair, then one hand slowly ran back down his back, lower and lower, stopping just short of where his trousers would usually start. Then the hand inched lower yet. Both of them, distracted from their kissing, stopped, staring at each other, as Bernard ran his fingers in a thoughtful circle on Wayne's perfect behind.

They stared at one another for a moment before Wayne chuckled, and shifted his hips slightly, a devilish grin now in place. "My turn, then." his hands which, up until now, had been moving just up and down Bernard's sides moved with greater purpose. They pushed down past his hips, slipped beneath the man's body and grabbed onto Bernard in a mirror of Bernard's wandering hand.

"You are so damn _hot._" Bernard hissed, almost flinching. "Your hands have no right to be so warm."

"Sorry, I could cool them down if you want?" Wayne asked, his thumbs tracing circles just like Bernard's were.

"No, no, keep them like that, it actually feels very very good."

"Very _very_ good?" Wayne asked on a low chuckle before kissing at Bernard's neck again.

"Very very very..." Bernard squeaked. "Ai. Yes and that. I like hot baths as well."

"We'll have to share one together at some point." Wayne grinned before he began, once more, to kiss and nibble at Bernard's neck.

"Oh. Ooh yes we can do that. I..." Bernard whimpered as Wayne hit a tender point. "I... definitely want to do that."

"Your heartbeat's going so fast..." Wayne mumbled, refusing to remove his lips from his loves neck yet. "I can hear it even without my super hearing."

"Uhhuhhh..." Bernard's hand tightened on Wayne's hair, and he tried to pull him off. "Mmmmh heartbeat's all yours yes..."

"How... how about this..." very slowly, very cautiously, Wayne brought one of his hands around from Bernard's behind to his front. His thumb touched Bernard's excitement first, before he eventually ran his fingers over it.

Bernard cried out then panted in surprise, and writhed under the touch. He closed his eyes, smiling in pleasure. "You have my full and total attention."

"Like I didn't before?" Wayne asked with a smirk, as he dragged his fingers over the sensitive flesh once more.

"Oh, you've had my attention for a long time. I just... I just didn't think I had yours."

"You've had my attention ever since I first saw you dance." he answered truthfully as he kissed the man softly.

"I think that highly unlikely. When you first saw me dance, Kev and his posse were there. I was definitely not what everyone was looking at."

"You were what _I_ was looking at." Wayne said pointedly as he closed his hand around Bernard's erection, fully enclosing it in his large, warm hand. "You're who I waited for every night I worked at that bar, not Kev, not Steve, not the men in those shorts. Only you."

"Hnnnnnnn" Bernard whimpered, twisting and shifting in the incredible heat the hand was providing.

"All right?" Wayne asked as he began to slowly move his hand up and down the shaft. "It was only you."

"Fffffind that rrrrreally tough to- to- believe..." Bernard's voice was completely different, now. It was fascinating.

"Think what you like, it's the truth." he pressed his thumb against the slit purposely. He felt the sticky evidence of just how excited Bernard was, so he slowly sped up the motions of his hand.

"Rrrrr." Bernard pulled Wayne closer for a kiss, pushing himself purposefully into Wayne's hand. "That's... That's going to lead to. Nnno don't stop..."

"I'm not, I'm not... wouldn't dare." Wayne whispered as he kept his word, his hand now set at a steady rhythm.

"On- on- second- thoughts..." Bernard put his hand on Wayne's, halting him "Second stupid thoughts, we should stop we should..."

Wayne, confused beyond belief, stopped. "Stop?" he asked, making no attempt at removing his hand.

"Th-there is... I mean we can... I mean... I'm not thinking straight. There is. Do you want to. I-I'm not sure how it would work b-but..."

"Do I want to what?" Wayne asked.

"Do you want to... Do _it_?"

"Yes." Wayne's answer was straight forward, and to the point. He even nodded. "I do."

Bernard reached with his left arm towards the edge of the bed, worked out that he was totally turned around, and gently pulled Wayne's hand away from himself. "There's a few technical things we have to do before we do that then." He tried to sit up.

Wayne moved back, giving the man room, nodding his head. "Yeah, I know."

Bernard sat up, went right forward, and pounced on Wayne, kissing him as he reached his own hands towards Wayne's own erections. After the kiss, he looked down. "I've heard of being a hand full... But this is... different."

"Ahhh... hhhnn... y-yeah I..." Wayne was startled by having Bernard's hands, both of them, suddenly grasping his dual erections. "Never had this before... I'm guessing?"

"Sort of the same... and new." Bernard stared as he ran his fingers gently over the doubled organ. "Interesting."

Wayne leaned back and dug his hands down into the bedding beneath him and moaned, probably louder than he would have liked, but he could not help it. Feeling someone elses' hands on his body like this, it was something he had been wanting, and waiting, for so long.

Bernard moved first one hand, then the other, finding a rhythm, fascinated by the sounds he was making Wayne make. A wide smirk appeared on his face, and he lowered his head and licked the end of one of Wayne's penises, experimentally.

At first there was no taste at all, which was slightly disappointing. Then, strangely, an odd flavour of sugar, and he frowned. Peculiar. More experimentation needed.

Just how Wayne was remaining not only motionless, but silent, throughout this was a mystery. His right to speak had been ripped from him the second Bernard's tongue had come in contact with him and, with wide eyes, had watched the man. Bernard gazed up at him as he very deliberately leaned back down to take another taste.

This time he remained there, taking his time to lick, and then suck, the head. Definitely sweet tasting. Not at all like anyone elses penis. New. Wayne was watching him like he had been frozen in time. Bernard sucked enthusiastically, both of his hands full of the remarkable double handful.

It seemed as though the longer Bernard was down there, the longer it took for time around the man to finally speed back up. He hadn't slowed things down, not at all, yet why had it felt like he had? He finally blinked after going who knows how long without doing it, and bowed his head forward as he shut his eyes, breath coming in deep, slow breaths.

"Were... weren't we..." Wayne finally found his voice from where it had hidden itself. "...g-going to... to... oh god Bernard..."

"Mmmmmmmm," Bernard mumbled in agreement, his voice buzzing against Wayne's flesh in the most enjoyable of ways.

"Nnghh!" Wayne shuddered at the sensation, since Bernard's tongue seemed to vibrate against him when he had mumbled.

Bernard finally pulled away, licking his lips, and tilted his head, watching Wayne on the bed in front of him. _Definitely everything I wished for_. When he let go of his double handful, Wayne whimpered slightly, and Bernard smirked as he flung himself over the side of the bed to rummage around underneath it.

Finally given the chance to catch his breath, Wayne took full advantage of it. Lord, what had come over him? He had never felt like that before, it was new and unexplored and he _loved_ it. For the first time in his life, it had felt as though he was at someone elses mercy and for a man who had spent so much of his life being a pillar of strength and power it was more than just a shock.

Swallowing dryly he ran a hand against his forehead as he sat up, and watched Bernard as he searched for something underneath the bed. His naked bottom, white as snow, wiggled in the air, as he slid half under the bed, cursing softly. Giving a sly smirk he reached forward and boldly took hold of it, craning his neck slightly as he did.

"Found what you're looking for, yet?" he asked.

"There's a lot of books under here." came the muffled reply. "But I've found the right box. Just working out how to- Aha!" Bernard pulled himself out from under the bed, and kicked his legs, narrowly missing Wayne. "Uh... give me a hand back up please?"

Bernard felt strong hands grip him around his waist and effortlessly lift him up, and settle him back down on the bed so that his back was against Wayne's chest as the man allowed his hands to settle in his lap. "So what've you got there?" Wayne asked, peering over Bernard's shoulder.

"Spoonful of sugar." Bernard muttered, holding a small bottle of something close to his chest in an attempt to warm it up.

"Helps the medicine go down." Wayne answered back as he lifted a hand and prodded at Bernard's own. "...is it flavoured?" he asked with a grin.

Bernard snorted, then laughed, tilting his head to kiss the larger man on the cheek. "I have no idea why I'm the one so nervous about this."

"Hmm, by rights I should be the nervous one here."

"You're definitely not nervous." Bernard wriggled against the pair of boners he was sitting against. "Not nervous at all."

Wayne chuckled but it turned into a pleased sound, before he pressed a few kisses to Bernard's neck. "Well, I could become nervous soon. Maybe it takes my mind a moment to realize I should be feeling anything else."

"We mustn't let you think about it for too long then." Bernard wiggled cheerily, and then with more purpose. "Mmmm."

"Mmmm is right..." Wayne's breath was hot against his exposed neck, and those hands that had been settled quite nicely against his hips began to ease their way forward to touch Bernard's sensitive flesh for a second time tonight.

Bernards head fell back on his shoulder, and he moaned delightedly. "You are still so deliciously warm."

"Maybe you're making me warm up...?" Wayne asked as he carefully nipped at Bernard's shoulder, while his hand wrapped around the man's erection. "You're certainly doing _something_ to me."

"Aaaaah... no, no, that would be youuuuu... doing..." Bernard gave up on talking, and shifted in his seat, one hand reaching up around Wayne's neck, the other trying to snake between them, the flask he had been holding dropped forgotten on the bed cover.

Wayne's hand was incredibly warm, just how it had felt before, as did his lips and breath as they traced flaming trails along the man's skin. It seemed neither of them could hold a conversation for long this evening, but given their present situation nobody could blame either man for their fault. Tonight seemed as though it was to be full of half-spoken sentences and hands dragging against hot, bare flesh.

Bernard pushed himself into Wayne's hand, lifted himself using the arm over Wayne's shoulder and neck, and rubbed pointedly against the rock-hard lumps behind him. Both the men gasped.

It got the point across loud and clear, and without any use of the human language at all. Wayne's voice was low as he moaned, once the initial gasp had left his system, and kissed at Bernard's neck with more purpose. His hips, meanwhile, gave a very pointed movement forward, pressing their bodies closer in a way they never had before.

"Exactly... Exactly right..." Bernard whispered whilst he rummaged frantically for the flask he had dropped. "So very much so." The flask had disappeared somewhere under both of them, and it took a little while to find. He somehow found it, and did his best to get the lid off one handed, whilst he still suspended himself from Wayne's shoulder, rocking and rubbing himself delightedly against Wayne.

"So, so how are we...?" Wayne asked breathlessly as his hips continued jerking forward every now and then, drawn into activity by Bernard's warm body continuously grinding down against him. His one free hand, the one not preoccupied with what lay between Bernard's legs, had dragged itself up to grasp at his chest and couldn't help but find it somewhat amusing at how fair Bernard's chest was in comparison to his own. He had body hair, of course, but it was so fair unlike his.

Bernard was chewing his own lip. He opened his mouth to gasp "Got an idea about that," and dropped the bottle entirely, left with the lid in his hand. "Damn."

Wayne helped, releasing one hand from him to lift up the bottle. "Do tell?" he asked.

"I want this..." He wriggled against something of Wayne's "Inside me," he took the bottle from Wayne "before I go completely insane." he did his best to empty the bottle onto Wayne's hand, and pulled the hand insistently, a pleading look on his face.

The man smiled at him, before winking. "Now how could I say no to a face like that?" he asked. While he had experience doing this sort of, well, preparation it was normally done on himself. Doing it to another man, on the other hand, was a whole other kettle of fish but just as before, he wasn't feeling as nervous as he thought he would. Maybe it was Bernard that set his mind at ease like this. He wouldn't question it, either way, since he busied himself with pressing even more kisses to the man's cheek and neck as his slicked hand drew back and pushed down between them to do its job.

Bernard moved in unexpected directions and there was a confused moment where both of them were not meeting up, but then the searching finger found its intended target and Wayne had a whole new musical instrument to play. Bernard was very vocal about his enjoyment of this, and his mouth was very near Wayne's ear.

He took great care to memorize just what movement drew what noise out of his lovers mouth, and took great pleasure from hearing those sounds and knowing it was he and he alone behind the cause. Wayne breathed harshly through his nose, breath forever hot against Bernard's shoulder, as he felt the other man's body still brush down against his excitement.

It was a great distraction, and extremely enjoyable, but this wasn't getting him closer to what he needed. Wayne gently pushed Bernard forward, unto the bed in front of him, and applied himself to the task. It wasn't until Bernard was moving desperately beneath him, hands gripping at the bedsheets, that Wayne felt this was probably _the_ time. "Ready, right?" he asked, surprised at the tone in which his voice came out in.

"Yes. Yesyesyes. Please?" Bernard squirmed on his fingers, both hands twisted in the fabric.

Wayne nodded. "Right, yes..." he said as he stared down at himself and suddenly wondered... well. _Which one do I use?_ For a brief second he deliberated before finally settling on using the top one. It would be easier, right?

He hoped so, anyway.

So with both hands now gripping Bernard's hips he drew himself closer to the man's body and felt a rush of pleasure at the heat that was coming off of Bernard's body, for once, rather than the other way around. He shut his eyes, took a deep breath to calm his mind, and pressed forward.

It seemed to take a ridiculously long time for Wayne to take that final step but Bernard was determined not to rush him. Wayne's hands closed around Bernards' hips and he was extremely aware that those overheated hands could crush him to powder, and yet he didn't care at all. Then Wayne _pushed_ and it seemed to Bernard that he was filling him with fire.

Wayne was renown for being indestructible, Metro Man was known to have no weaknesses. How many times he had clashed with his nemesis Megamind? How many times had lasers, spikes, and other deadly creations had been been thrown at him in so many different ways? Nothing had hurt him, nothing had stunned him or given him pause. Yet suddenly, now, with Bernard's body pressing down around one of the most sensitive parts of his anatomy it felt as though none of that had ever happened. He didn't feel weak, _per se_, but he didn't feel like the man of strength he was known to be. The heat and muscle of Bernard's body was illuminating, and the man shut his eyes and let his hot, heavy moan describe what this felt like.

It was mirrored exactly in Bernard's moan, the only perfect reply. Bernard pushed himself back into Wayne's center at just the right moment, and allowed him even deeper inside, emphasizing the moan even further.

_This is new,_ thought Bernard, carefully. That which was inside him was both new and not, and a good deal _warmer_ than anything he had experienced before, but far more _different_ in this situation was the other thing which rubbing in a most fascinating way against his own erection.

_Every girl in the history of the universe would have some idea of what to do with that, and here I am..._ Bernard thought desperately, as it _rubbed_, and he squealed. Wayne paused, worriedly, and Bernard panted "Don't stop. Don't ever stop." only to squeal again as Wayne thrust and rubbed in one inexorable movement.

Wayne hadn't expected to hear Bernard squeal over anything, but it was a lovely addition to what was fast becoming an incredible new experience. He could feel his muscles twitch with every movement, still an easy and fluid-like in motion, but he could tell by the way that Bernard was clawing at the bedsheets and pushing back onto him with every heavy pant and squeal that things would become faster paced relatively soon.

Bernard snarled into the fabric of his bed. _Too slow too slow_ but even though he tried to speed the movement up Wayne forcefully kept it slow and Bernard had no way of controlling it. And it had an unexpected effect, building up inside the core of his being, as hot as the fiery organs he had accosting him. And it was _good_.

"Bernard... hnnn..."

"Oh man Wayne..." They both spoke at the same time, and stopped, lost in mutual sensation.

The larger man gave a soft chuckle as he gently guided one of his hands up Bernard's bare back, until he was grasping his shoulder. "You're... amazing..." he panted, giving his hips another rock forward, purposely deeper and faster in comparison to his movements before.

"Haaaah..."

"Ahh... a new... sound?" he asked. "Let's... hear that again..."

"Aaaiiii..." Bernard squeaked.

"Huh... new... I like it..." Wayne bent forward, pushing himself just that little bit deeper, and his mouth found Bernard's shoulder and he kissed him.

Bernard gave up all attempts at real thought, and lived in the moment. The pressure inside him, hot and large and making him seem to burst, the rubbing against his erection, insistent, always there, the grip of Wayne's hand on his hip, his shoulder, in the side of his ribs, all over him, so strong, impossible to fight, not that he would ever think to do so. The breath on his back, Wayne nuzzling the back of his neck. Moment after moment, instant after instant.

And Wayne was getting faster. It was a slower acceleration than he had ever had before, and he at first thought it was too slow, but now he realised that it was exactly what he had been missing in the past. Other lovers fucked him for their own benefit... Wayne had a different goal.

His lips were hot against his shoulder, and he felt them move from there to his neck, before the mans lips were lost momentarily in his mess of brown hair. Wayne suddenly let out a low, almost irritated, growl before the warmth against his back pulled away. "No, no..." The man muttered as his hands slid down Bernard's body until they both gripped his hips.

Then Wayne pulled away from him completely, leaving Bernard feeling remarkably rejected. "No! No, come back!" he whimpered, struggling.

"I am, I am, don't worry, don't worry..." Wayne reassured him as his hands were back, touching his back tenderly. "I just... want to change something..." that's when he, once more without any effort, lifted the man and rolled him over so Bernard was now being settled with his back against the bed. "Is this all right?" he asked, hands already gripping Bernard's body as he now knelt over him, wanting to return so desperately he was amazed he was even capable of both holding himself back, and even asking.

"It will be in a minute." Bernard pulled him closer.

The fire was back, alarmingly fast, and it felt somehow different to the way it had the first time. Probably because this time, Wayne's mouth found his own and they kissed desperately as their bodies feverishly reunited. _So goddamn warm_ Bernard thought as he was pulled closer and closer into Wayne's embrace.

Wayne's weight pressed down against him but never enough to crush him; Wayne was probably all too aware of what he could do to the skinny man if he wasn't careful. But either way, he could feel those strong, indestructible muscles and their thick covering of body hair press down against his body. His hands helped position Bernard's legs, so they ended up wrapping around down low on his back, and just as before he felt the second sex (which beforehand had been the other way around) grind against his own erection, both of them trapped between their two bodies.

Bernard curled his back and moaned into Wayne's mouth. Different again, the sensations were somehow getting better and better despite the fact that this seemed an impossible feat. And yet again Wayne was going too _slowly_. Bernard whimpered, shifted, and _pushed_ and did his best not to rush him.

It definitely was worth the time. He was being filled with liquid fire, Wayne was kissing him on the mouth, the cheek, the ear, biting his lip, and all the while there was insistent rubbing not only inside him but along his own shaft, a thorough friction which electrified everything.

After what felt like no time, and yet also a small eternity, Wayne's movements finally started gaining speed like they had before. The force was enough to push Bernard upwards on the bed with every second or third thrust of Wayne's body, but thankfully Wayne seemed somehow aware enough to spot this so before the other man's head would hit the bed frame he lifted a hand and pressed it against the wall.

And yet his lips never left Bernard's skin once.

The delirious friction and pressure of Bernard's body moving against both of his sexes was unlike anything he had experienced before. Hands were one thing, but having not only somebody like Bernard but somebody he honestly cared about being here was like throwing fuel onto a fire. Said fire, which had been growing ever since he and Bernard had been kissing on the couch surrounded by all those books, spiked dangerously within him, and he knew what that meant. The tight coil, ready to snap and break, was growing tighter and tighter with every push and it wouldn't be long now.

Why did it have to end?

Apparently so that he could hear some exciting new noises from Bernard. In hindsight, he had been able to predict this moment for some time. In reality, it took him, and appeared to take Bernard, rather by surprise.

The fire ran right through Bernard, hit something deep inside him, and howled in surprise as Wayne rode him right over the edge. As stars raced across his vision and fire ran to the tips of his extremities, he managed, "Oh ho ho ho …..METRO MAAAAN!" and the world became both infinitely big and smaller than the smallest point, all at once.

The name, or more specifically, the title that Bernard had chose to cry out surprised the man but his surprise was soon blown away and forgotten when the body beneath him did something deliriously pleasing. There was a sudden rush of pressure, combined with the pitch in Bernard's voice, his heart racing within his chest, and the feeling of his lovers climax splashing over his stomach was what grabbed his restraint and pulled him too, down over the edge.

His whole body slammed forward, drawn towards Bernard's by a force he could no longer deny. His whole body felt as if it was on fire, exploding every single molecule in his body, and it felt vastly different to when he would reach this kind of end when he was alone. "B-BERNARD!" his voice came out far louder than he had thought, as his orgasm struck him with such a force it left him breathless.

Naturally having two penises meant two exit points so not only did Bernard end up being filled by the man, but his stomach got splashed as well and not exactly at the same time either.

Bernard was distracted by other things however. "Ow!" he yelled, not so much in pain as in surprise, as he was pushed deep into his bed, Wayne grabbing him in a crushing embrace. "Woah!" both of them rode aftershocks, tangled in fabric. They were both now on their sides, and Bernard was relatively sure that there had been a tearing sound mixed up in the final few sounds, and he didn't care, didn't care.

_The best sex I've ever had, and we're still at the early awkward phase of the relationship,_ Bernard thought to himself, then realised one of the awkward parts and cringed inwardly. There was no way that Wayne could not have noticed that...

Of course it took little time for Wayne to catch his breath back since it seemed not even sex itself was enough to render the man completely exhausted. Still, he lifted a hand and wiped it at his forehead, shutting his eyes as he did unless he wanted sweat getting in them. When he lowered his hand, he opened his eyes, and smiled at the smaller man who still had his arms and legs wrapped around him as if letting go was the worst thing that could happen.

"...how about," he said quietly as he trailed his hand along Bernard's jaw, "next time we try for my name?" he asked on a small, amused smile.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry..." Bernard whispered whilst he hung on desperately, not wanting the whole embrace to end.

Wayne couldn't help but smile, even if he felt a little sorry for the embarrassed blush now spreading over Bernard's face. "Hey don't be...! You knew me as Metro Man far longer than you knew me as Wayne. It's okay, it's okay..." he kissed his forehead softly, beard tickling him as he did. "...how about I wear my costume, though, next time? Would you like that?" he asked with a playful grin.

"Oh god." Bernard hid his face in Wayne's chest, then continued, his voice muffled "Although I do want to see you in that, that would be awesome."

The larger man chuckled. "I can arrange that."

**The End**


End file.
